#i don’t want to be a bother but my brain can’t wrap around the fact of like permanence of certain things

[chuluoyi]

࿐ ࿔ hot, hot summer !

in which you got the offer of a lifetime—takes place in 2006-2009 era! @mrrpmiao miao, you’re so responsible for the brain worm you’ve instilled in my mind🙂‍↕️

a part of gojo's love entries

summer is as hot as you are pretty.

it’s an undisputed fact to satoru. after all, he chose you. so of course you were the best. he supposed even strangers here would eventually come to realize it too… as it wasn’t the first time their kind had done so.

kamakura beach was packed in summer, and he stepped away a bit to get you shaved ice only to come back to this appalling sight.

“miss! ooh! you’re so gorgeous!”

this suspicious-looking middle-aged man—with goatee, long tied hair, wearing palm shirt and beach shorts—approached you so merrily as you were chilling under the parasol.

“ah thank you…?” you pasted a taut smile, totally clueless and spooked, hoping he would go on his way.

“i mean it! your body is so—wow!” the man gasped dramatically, appraising you from head to toe. “your bust—it’s perfect! you’d make a good cover girl, you know!”

you were wearing the bikini of the same brand inoue waka endorsed at satoru’s insistence, and true, it was indeed a sight for sore eyes.

his sore eyes, specifically. not others.

satoru scowled, and he marched towards where you were. he would do his job as always—chasing away no-good men from you.

“hey you,” he barked. “what business do you have with my girl here?”

the bearded man regarded him with surprise, before he assessed him from top to bottom. “oh! you’re mr. boyfriend? whoa, you don’t look bad yourself!”

“if you’re trying to bother my—”

“no, no! you’ve got the wrong idea!” the man defended, raising both hands in surrender. “you see, i’m about to offer the pretty lady a gig as a gravure model!”

wha? you gaped. satoru blinked.

“m-me?” you stammered, flabbergasted, pointing at yourself. “uh, are you sure?”

“yes! 100% sure!” the agent man replied with stars in his eyes. “miss, with your assets, you’ll outshine even inoue waka or kaoru sakurako themselves!”

“really?!” you almost laughed. it was a strange compliment, but a compliment nonetheless.

but next to you, satoru’s face darkened, his eyes obscured. his fists clenched around the paper bowl of shaved ice so hard it shook. the next thing you know—

“here, hold this.” he suddenly shoved the shaved ice to you, before he plucked his sandal off and—

“YOU!” satoru raised the flip-flop above his head, his eyes blazing with fury, ready to swing it at the man. “GET LOST YOU SLIMY BOZO!”

“—?! WAIT, YOUNG MAN!”

and then came the most disastrous scene before you: your boyfriend chased the agent with his sandal, throwing it at him that it bonked his head, then grabbed someone’s big-ass water gun without permission and continued the pursuit, determined to catch him.

. . .

“how could you?! why do you seem even remotely interested!?” satoru fierily questioned you after he was done cooking the gravure video agent, panting and sopping wet. in the end, the two of them got into a water gun fight that ended with him winning.

you turned to him, feigning an unimpressed expression. “he said i can outshine inoue waka. who wouldn’t want that chance?”

“you can’t!” he retorted almost immediately, aghast. “i mean, yeah you can! but no! no way! you can’t flaunt your body for everyone to see!”

“why?”

“you are mine!” he pouted hard, irked. “i don’t want to share you! you are for the consumption of my eyes only!”

his blatant response made you giddy, truthfully. and as if to stress his point, he suddenly pulled you to his chest from behind, wrapping both arms around you, making you squeal.

“satoru, you’re wet!”

“so? when i marry you someday, we’re going to share a lot of things together. wet is one of them.”

“does this mean you’d pick me over inoue waka?” you threw him a suggestive smile, looking up at him expectantly.

his face then turned pink, as he smooched you in the head. “you know the answer to that, dummy.”

who would have thought that he would really keep his promise and that you'd come to the same beach years later...?

[earthtooz]

x : TO LOVE, TO CHANGE: *+ﾟ

in which: you tell veritas you love him. he gets upset with you.

warnings: contrary to what the synopsis implies, it's fluff, i promise. 1k words, first time saying ily, slightly cranky reader, no mentions of reader's gender, dr. ratio being so in love he becomes so soppy and lovestruck. confessions.

a/n: there's a phenomenon that happens whenever i write for dr. ratio, and it's that my heart literally lunges out of my chest and begins typing at the keyboard for me. i should get it checked out. anyways, this is to preemptively celebrate his release!!

“Why- why are you mad?” You exclaim, watching the way Veritas crosses his arms and pouts with the petulance of a child. His gaze has strayed away from your eyes, and all you can do is sit in his lap with your arms hanging at your sides, brain tirelessly racking for all the reasons that you could have angered him.

He doesn’t give you any clues, displeasure brewing in his eyes instead.

“Is it because I said ‘I love you’?”

The purple haired scoffs and sticks up his nose, hair bouncing with his actions whilst you jostle slightly on his legs from the quick action. As much as you love his side profile, you’d love it even more if he spoke to you about what is bothering him.

During this moment, the world stills. You think he’s genuinely mad, and Dr. Ratio’s fury-driven state is not something you should take lightly. Really, you’ve seen it multiple times, and though it has never been directed at you, you hope it never will be. Which is why you sit on his lap now, tensely anticipating his response, and for the answer as to what you did wrong. 

“I was meant to say it first,” he grumbles, losing the arrogance that fills his tone whenever he speaks, air filling with sincerity. 

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I was meant to be the one to say ‘I love you’ first.”

Your confusion is tangible at this point. Audible, if you will, because it rings like cicada sing. “Are you being serious?”

“Deadly.”

“You- why, then couldn’t you just have said it?” You sputter, slapping his defined deltoid, concern slowly melting into frustration. “Need I remind you that it was me who confessed to you first as well?”

“Yes, and it was positively the best day of my life.” He says that like it’s a simple fact. No sentiment, no heartfelt declaration, just another logical statement straight from a textbook of his life.

They say to be loved is to be changed, but no matter how much you love Veritas, all he knows is how to be an astronomical pain in your ass. Does he know how scared you were for his answer? You thought you did something unforgivable, or that he didn’t love you enough to respond in kind, or worst of all, that he wanted nothing to do with you anymore?

However, he's acting petty because he was not the first one to say those three words? You frankly don’t know why your heart beats for him as strongly as it does. In fact, you want to whack him over the head with his own codex.  

Placing your hands firmly on his shoulders, you shuffle out of your position from his lap, planting your feet onto the ground. “Oh, you are so infuriating! Pretend I never said anything, I’m going back to my office until you-”

Not even two steps away from him and a hand clasps around your wrist to drag you back to where you started: on Dr. Ratio’s lap. His arms come to wrap around you like chains, leaving no room to wrestle him out.

“I never said you could leave. Especially not after telling me you love me,” he grumbles lowly into your collarbone, breath tickling your skin.

“I’m starting to regret it.” 

“Can’t you at least say it again?”

“I don’t want to,” you grumble, arms snaking up to rest around his shoulders. “You don’t deserve it.” 

“Well, that’s a little harsh. Is this how you treat the ones you love?”

“You haven’t even said anything back,” you pinch his skin. “Talk about harsh.”

“Do you remember the first time we met?” he asks with a fond chuckle, not missing the opportunity to leave kisses in a trail along your skin, making his way up your neck. Then, when his eyes meet yours, you almost crumble in embarrassment at the memory he’s injected into your mind. 

You push him away and raise a hand to shield your eyes from him, clearly reliving a haunting memory. “Please don’t remind me.” 

“Y’know, it’s not everyday someone gets to scold me and be right. If you weren’t so beautiful, I wouldn’t have let it slide, but it’s not everyday a gorgeous genius falls into my lap with guts to challenge me.”

“I was… agitated that day, so stop talking about it, please. In fact, for my sake, please just forget that moment. Completely.”

“Forget about it? Completely?” The scholar asks with genuine shock lacing his tone. “I fell in love with you in that very moment, how can you expect me to stop talking about it? You rendered me a fool in love and expect me to not think about the very moment it happened? Sweetheart, it was a pivotal moment of my life!” 

“Not pivotal enough if you can’t even say ‘I love you, too’.”

“On the contrary, I have loved you longer. I yearned for you in wakefulness and in my dreams. I wished for you to look my way, and when you did, I never wanted your eyes to stray from me. How heartbreaking it was when they did.” His hand has snuck under your shirt now to rub circles on your skin. If he detached from you, he fears you’d slip away from him, and the worst thing you can give him is space. “Do you know how it felt chasing after you because you were the only one out of my reach? For three years, the only thing I wanted was to be yours. You made me an idiot.”

Stunned by his confession and the weight of it, you let him continue, sharp tongue softening. The only motivation you offer is a hand coming to cup his cheek, tucking aside his bangs so you can see his expression in its entirety. 

His gold eyes shine when they look back up at you. For the first time, you feel like you’re seeing the parts of him that Veritas hides from everyone else. 

“I love you.” He continues with heart wrenching devotion. “I’ll continue loving you until the streams stop, the rivers freeze, and the oceans dry. With three hundred thousand, eighty-three thousand, five hundred and seventy-one discovered planets in the cosmos, that phenomenon will approximately take-”

You seal his lips with yours in a gentle kiss, cradling his jaw and swallowing his words. Like wax to fire, Veritas sinks into you, completely helpless against your affections. 

But, oh, you love him, and nothing else in the entire universe matters.

© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[chagrin-roses]

I thought I hit rock bottom a few months ago but I was dead wrong tf 💀

[maxlarens]

hello jack doohan lovers. pls excuse any weird characterisation etc, i’ve never written jack before and am writing this because @coff33andb00ks gave me brain worms about this idea for jack x oscar’s childhood bsf!reader:

Oscar’s your friend. Your oldest friend in fact.

Which is to say you’re proud of him and his big boy job as a Formula One driver. And, of course, you’re endlessly grateful for the opportunity to follow him around the world in return for your services as his social media lackey. It’s a job you enjoy even. Which is not to say that you’ve got any kind of ulterior motive to show up on race weekends—

Nope. None at all!

It’s certainly got nothing at all to do with the fellow Australian Flynn Rider-lookalike that hangs around Alpine hospitality. Nothing whatsoever.

Jack Doohan isn’t even on your radar. And you certainly don’t keep an eye out for a flash of warm brown hair or that Roman nose of his. The familiar Australian accent in a crowd, grey-blue eyes shining in the sun, the tooth that often catches on his bottom lip—

No. You don’t pay attention to Jack Doohan at all.

Well, at least not as far as Oscar is concerned.

Cootie-ridden, annoying, pain-in-your-arse, Oscar.

Who as far as you know, thinks you’re still seven years old and pushing him into the sandpit in your parent’s backyard. Who honestly thinks all boys look at you and still see the little girl with pigtail braids who used to play race-cars with him. Which, well, is the same way you look at Oscar and see the kid who used to pick his boogers and spend hours reading his favourite racing magazine to you when you just wanted to play Barbies.

So whatever, you’re even—

You think his girlfriend is crazy for being in love with him and he doesn’t think Jack Doohan has a crush on you.

Oh yeah: you think Jack Doohan has a crush on you. Or you might have a crush on Jack Doohan, who’s to say?

It’s really not some baseless accusation you’re spouting with no evidence. Again, Oscar just thinks you still have cooties. And, okay, y’know what, see for yourself—

You swear this time you’re only outside Alpine hospitality on accident. Oscar and Lando are wrapped up in some McLaren PR thing and you’re filming B-roll of the paddock to use in a reel you’re thinking about making. Ending up by Alpine was a total mistake.

Not that it bothers you much when the object of your affection turns up regardless.

You hear the scuff of shoes against gravel and feel a presence hovering at your back before you know it’s him. Somehow, you know it’s him anyway. As if you’re linked by some cosmic thread. As if you’re attuned to his very aura… Not that you believe in that stuff. But it is weird. The way you know him without sight.

You feel his hair tickle your cheek as he leans over your shoulder, all up in your space.

You don’t mind.

“Hard at work, huh?” he teases into your ear, his breathy laugh making you suppress a shiver.

“Mm hm,” you answer, tight lipped, trying to keep the camera stabilised despite yourself, “Doin’ my job.”

He moves away and you finally hit the button to stop recording. You spin around to face him, trying not to let a full-blown grin appear on your face. He’s doing something similar, half-grin, that snaggletooth you like so much on display. Eyes sparkling in the sunlight.

“Was that a jab at me?”, he raises his eyebrows (can’t raise just one, you’ve discovered).

You make a face, shake your head, “No, I would never,” you tell him in an exaggerated tone that says you’re taking the piss.

He scoffs, points a finger at you, “I’ll have you know that I was on the sim until three in the morning.”

You laugh this time, loud, tucking your phone into your back pocket and trying to resist the urge to lean into him like girls do in the movies. Hand on his shoulder, folding in half, like he’s just said the funniest thing ever. Like he’s not just some guy with brown hair and pretty eyes.

“Yeah, I know, Jack. You don’t let anyone forget it.”

His eyes widen impishly, “People need to know.”

“Sure do,” you smile broadly; meaning it, also taking a bit of a jab at Alpine’s chronic ‘middle-of-the-pack’-ness without being too mean, “Where would Alpine be without you?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, “In the gutter, with Williams, probably.”

You both burst suddenly into a fit of laughter. Neither one of you leaning on the other, but close to it. You’re sure it looks suspicious— Oscar Piastri’s known best friend and Alpine’s reserve driver bent over and giggling with each other— but you can’t bring yourself to care.

Being around Jack is intoxicating.

He makes your head spin and your heart race and your chest feel like it’s got some yawning sun inside of it. When you’re with him you always want more. To hear him talk, to watch his expressions shift, to feel him, warm and there and next to you. It’s never enough.

You want you want you want,

He occupies your mind when he’s not around. You think back on your texts. Interactions that the two of you have had. How he looked on a certain day. If you’re being too annoying by replying to his Instagram stories—

It shouldn’t matter. It does anyway. You want him to like you, so desperately that there’s an ache pulsing in the middle of your chest. Right in the centre of your ribs.

Sometimes, you think he wants you to like him too.

You’re drunk on it— him, the laughter— it makes your fingers tingle when you look at him. Not sure if this is the Moment exactly, but feeling something in the air anyway. The way his mouth is parted, the way the corner of it lifts. It’s not the Something, but it is something. Or at least it’s something until,

well, until Oscar—

Oscar who comes barreling over like there’s not palpable electricity between you and Jack right now.

“Hey man,” he says, as you’re watching them dap each other up like Oscar isn’t totally ruining any chance to flirt further with the Alpine reserve driver. You roll your eyes covertly. Huff audibly when Oscar drags you away for PR duties. Send Jack a beaming smile over your shoulder anyway, get one in return that makes you all warm and fuzzy and hopeful.

Oscar side eyes you, “Why do you look all red?”

You raise an eyebrow, hair flicking into your own face as you snap your head to look at him, “Excuse me?”

He gestures at his own face, then points at yours, “Dunno. You’re all red. Did you say something embarrassing to Jack? He probably doesn’t care—”

“Oh my god,” you cut him off, “Are you that blind?”

He frowns, furrows his eyebrows, “What do you mean?”

You jut a thumb at Alpine hospitality in the distance, careful to keep your voice low, “You don’t think there was something back there? Like between Jack and I?”

Oscar stares at you for a long moment. Dumbfounded. Utterly confused. So much so that you begin to get annoyed at his silence. What does it say that your boy-best-friend can’t even imagine a guy having a crush on you? Are you really that insane for thinking Jack might?

“You and Jack?” he asks.

“Jack and I,” you repeat, tone clipped.

He’s quiet for another long second. Then he’s shaking his head like it’s the most absurd thing he’s ever heard,

“No,” he’s saying in that way that’s trying to sound like a maybe but betrays his true feelings on the matter.

You scoff indignantly, then shove him hard enough that he stumbles into a wall. He’ll eat his words one day, you know it.

hope u guys enjoyed🥺

[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 3] Reunion

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

You’re shaken up when you get off the elevator and you’re not sure what to do. You have to contact his mother, but you’re sure that he’s speaking to her right this second. A million thoughts run through your head, but first you have to speak with your new boss about the fact that your son is joining you for the day; or at least until you get in contact with the nanny that can pick him up from here.

You aren’t quite sure where to go from here though. So many people are walking around and they all seem so busy, and you don’t want to bother them. You’re not sure what’s come over you right this second because bothering people has never been one of your worries. Your breath is caught up in your chest, and you wish you could be invisible. Even from the young boy that holds your hand and looks around.

You feel out of place. You’re out of place. You hear your name, and your eyes wander to find the feminine voice that said it. And when you finally see her, this wave of relief washes over you, although it doesn’t last too long.

“Shoko?” You look at the woman that puts her hand on your arm, seeing that you’re shaken up. She stares at you for a moment before her eyes go down and she sees a carbon copy of Satoru– Only that this one can’t be older than five. She can’t wrap her head around this.

“Come to my office.” She says, and you slowly nod in response before you follow behind her. When you’re in the office, your eyes fall on the giant windows that display a great view of the city. Ren's eyes do the same, and he walks over to the windows, putting his tiny hands on them. When she shuts the door she says, “So are you the woman that Mrs. Gojo hired?”

Your brain seems to have slowed down, and it takes a moment before you respond, “I am.”

But that’s not what Shoko wants to talk about. She had seen your name when Mrs. Gojo shared your information. She wants to know about the little boy that dirties her window with his handprints. She walks to her chair to take a seat, “Satoru never told me he had a kid. Or are you the nanny as well?”

“That’s not Satoru’s kid.” You lie, and she can read right through you– Even if she couldn’t, the child is a copy of Satoru’s. It’s very clearly a lie. “I’m not here to talk about that though… I’m here to– Um…”

“To get started. I’ve been waiting for you. You are late, but considering the obvious circumstances, I’ll let it slide. Plus, you’re an old friend.” Shoko responds. She points at Ren before asking, “Will he be joining us daily? Because I can’t make too many exceptions.”

“No, just today. Mrs. Gojo hired a nanny but she didn’t show up.” You answer, and Shoko’s eyebrows raise.

“So he’s not Satoru’s kid but Mrs. Gojo is his grandmother?” Shoko asks and you hesitantly nod. “Okay…”

“I don’t want– Well, we don’t want Satoru to find out about…” You tilt your head in Ren’s direction. You know he’s listening to everything, even if he doesn’t seem to be. Many questions run through Shoko’s head, but she thinks it’s better if she doesn’t ask. She’s curious, yet it’s none of her business. 

“Okay… You know he’s here, right? He sent me a message not too long ago and whatnot, and he’ll be coming here to at least greet me. If you want to keep it a secret you’ll have to–” Shoko begins and with every word you feel your stomach churn. Your heart feels as if it’s about to beat out of your chest and you have to cut her off.

“I got it, thank you.” You attempt to smile, and your nerves are reflected. You’ll send the nanny the address, and tell her to hurry up before you get Mrs. Gojo more involved than she already is. “Will you please show me to my desk? And of course, inform me of my tasks. Mrs. Gojo blindly threw me in here.”

“Right. Yup. Of course.” She stands up. She’s about to guide you out of the office and to your desk, but she has something to say. “Don’t you think he deserves to know?”

“I deserved to know about his marriage. We had been together for a long time. But he cut me off as if it was nothing.” You respond. “There was no way for me to contact him anyway.”

“Yeah… Sorry. Let’s get you to your desk.”

Ren hides under your desk, playing with your phone as you wait for the nanny to show up to the place. She apologized over a hundred times, a family emergency had come up, but now she’s on her way. And now you pray that she’ll get Ren off your hands before Satoru comes to this floor. You have too much on your plate. 

“Mommy, someone is calling.” Ren announces, passing you the phone. You take it from him, and when you see that it’s the nanny calling, you’re relieved. It almost causes a smile to come to your lips. You put the phone to your ear, and when she tells you that she’s in the lobby, you nearly jump up from your seat. 

“C’mon, Ren. You’re going back home.” You tell him, and he gets out of the desk and grabs your hand. He’s a little too excited to go back home, after all, he doesn’t do much here. Back at home though, he has so many toys and a big TV where he can watch his cartoons. 

“Are you coming with me, mommy?” He asks. He knows that you have to work and you spend so much time working, but he’s still hopeful that you’ll nod in response. Instead you smile at him before shaking your head,

“I’ll see you later, baby.” You ruffle his hair. “This weekend we’ll do something fun.”

He slowly nods his head, a bit disappointed by the answer, but it’s to be expected. You knock on the Shoko’s office door, and you wait for her to allow you to come in. When you hear her voice, you open the door and quickly announce, “I’m dropping Ren off in the lobby with the nanny. I’ll be right back.”

She nods in response and you close the door again. You walk to the elevator with Ren, and you get in, fully expecting to hide him again just because you feel as if the universe hates you, and you might bump into Satoru again. But you’re lucky.

You make it to the lobby without the universe playing any tricks on you, and you quickly spot the nanny. You drop Ren off with her, reminding her of the apartment code as you give her Ren’s bag. You kiss the top of your son’s forehead and tell him, “Be good, okay, baby?”

“Yes, mommy.” He nods. You smile at him, happy that you don’t have to worry about Satoru seeing him. The nanny walks away with your son, and once they exit the building, you begin to walk back to the elevators. While you wait for the elevator doors to open, your heart stops for a moment again. 

You begin to walk to the other elevator, hoping to avoid another awkward interaction, but you hear Mrs. Gojo call your name. She’s a wretched woman, that’s all you can think about. Your hands ball up into fists and you take a deep breath before turning around to face her.

“Mrs. Gojo.” You acknowledge her, trying your best to smile at her. You look directly at her, ignoring Satoru and his wife who are right alongside her. You feel Satoru’s wife stare at you while Satoru’s eyes wander around, not wanting to look directly at you.

“I was waiting for you this morning, what happened?” She asks. Before you can answer, she speaks again, “Oh, where are my manners? This is Sayo, my daughter-in-law. And you remember Satoru, right? You two grew up together.”

“Yeah… How could I forget.” You respond. Sayo extends her hand for you to shake, and you do so. Satoru’s hands go into his pockets and he looks anywhere but at you. “Really lovely meeting you.”

“You too.” She smiles. When she lets go, you unintentionally wipe your hand on your pants. 

“What happened this morning?” Mrs. Gojo goes back to her original question. You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to think of how to answer.

“You know the cat?” You ask and she furrows her eyebrows. She’s confused until you say, “Your cat threw up and I couldn’t leave it alone for the–”

“Oh! Oh… Why didn’t you call me?” She replies.

“I did. I left a message as well.” You respond. You awkwardly stand around for what feels like an eternity before you clear your throat. You’re about to speak but Satoru speaks before you.

“You never told me you got a cat, mom. Do you have any pictures?” Satoru asks.

“No.” She answers. “And don’t expect to see it. The cat isn’t staying with me for now.”

“Why?” Satoru asks, and his mom rolls her eyes. That’s enough of an answer for him. “How about you? Do you have pictures?”

“I do.” You respond.

“Can I see?”

“No.” You reply. You then smile at Mrs. Gojo and tell her, “Ms. Ieiri is waiting for me, if you’d excuse me.”

“Oh, we still have to greet her. Mind if we accompany you?” Sayo asks and you shake your head, trying your best to remain polite with everyone. You knew this would happen eventually the moment you began to work for Mrs. Gojo, you just didn’t expect it so soon.

“I’m heading out, I’ll see you three later.” Mrs. Gojo says, waving. You head to the elevator and they walk behind you. Your palms get sweaty and you feel as if you can’t breathe while you’re entrapped in such a small space with them.

“So… You’re my mother-in-law’s assistant but you also work with Ieiri?” Sayo speaks, and you bite down on your lip. 

“Yup, money problems.” You answer.

“Weren’t you planning on becoming a doctor?” Satoru speaks up just as the elevator doors open. You don’t answer his question, walking out of the elevator. You walk straight to Shoko’s office, and they follow behind. Just as you’re about to knock, Shoko opens the door. Her eyes immediately land on Satoru and his wife.

“Special delivery for you.” You tell Shoko. She puts on a smile, greeting Satoru and Sayo as you walk to your desk. When you take a seat, you can’t focus on learning what you have to do. Today was simply the worst day to start the new job.

“Why didn’t you tell me about your new assistant?” Satoru asks Shoko as she takes her seat. The woman shrugs.

“Does it matter?” Shoko replies.

“Well… I guess it doesn’t.” He ends up shaking his head.

“Who is she exactly?” Sayo questions. 

“She’s an old friend. She’s an old servant’s daughter and we grew up together.” Satoru responds. Sayo slowly nods in response as she takes a seat across from Shoko. That makes sense, but she doesn’t understand why you feel so hostile toward him. Maybe she’s reading things wrong though, it was just a brief exchange.

“You know? I want to get to know all of Satoru’s friends better. How about we invite you two out… and Suguru! You know Suguru, right?” Sayo suggests, Satoru’s eyebrows furrowing.

“Know him? I nearly killed him once.” Shoko scoffs.

“You two as in…?” Satoru asks, praying that the second person is someone completely random.

“The assistant.” She answers, and Satoru bites his tongue. He can’t argue about it unless he reveals that he has a past with you, and he doesn’t want that. Shoko purses her lips together before saying,

“I’m in. It’ll be nice to go out with old friends.”

A smile appears on Sayo’s lips and she stands up, “I’ll go invite the assistant.”

“Love, slow down a bit. She’s busy.” Satoru’s hand goes to Sayo’s shoulder. Sayo ends up rolling her eyes before she brushes off Satoru’s hand.,

“I’ll only take up a second of her time.”

🏷 @yeagerfushiguro @luckimoon @uhremmi @conniesbbymama @mykyoon @prettyiolanthe @mc-reborn @the-loneliest-girl @cloudsinthecosmos @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @blinkingsuns @oi-loverboy @neireav @lilith412426 @misshale21 @rivaiken @q-the-rockaholic @merlinssassybeard @ikilledsparky2 @mimizsworld @lily3847 @Teslumieres @floralsightings @Mocha-plxnet @idreamitski @creolequeen11210 @jooaannnnaaa @enthusiastiics @lovinkiri @abdce12345 @bkgnotsuma @kariito-art @beelzmunchkin @satosuguswife @kurome-ga-kill @hoonberrie @mittypops @suhaaaefre @AZE107 @ackerstein @sweetshawty @saiewithakatana @psychopotatomeme @innocxntdexth @4-morant @shan-nein @marymosaa @Ditzyberry @purpleguk @basically-an-anime-stan-acct @bomjug @idkbutokaylol @rosieee491 @ieathairs

[xazse]

Heyyy, I'm absolutely in love with all your writing! I read it all in one night😭 Do you think you could for more foxgirl fem reader stuff? The prompt is completely up to you, I don't want to take away from your creativity, but some smut would be greatly appreciated. . .💖

NANAMI X FOXGIRL!READER

Notes: I wasn’t sure which character you wanted so i decided to go with Nanami since that’s where the prompt came from. Btw don’t be afraid to tell me a specific prompt you have in mind, I’m not that creative when it comes to these things so I rely a lot on my followers, so don’t be afraid! Im so happy you read my stuff in one night! It makes me feel good abt writing for you guys <333

Pairings: NANAMI x foxgirl!Reader

Tags: Smut, NASTY!!, hybrid!reader, mating press, mean but soft Kento (kinda), NOT PROOFREAD!

It’s hot, too hot in fact, Kento’s body feels like it’s rising in temperature every few minutes, his dreams feel so vivid and real, a wet hot something is mouthing at his cock, but the fuzz is in his brain won’t allow him to think rationally and clearly. Kento stills before he’s sitting up quickly and ripping the cover off his lower body.

He sees your ears before anything, laid back and relaxed, you don’t even seem to care that you’ve woken him up, not when your tongue is licking him through his underwear, you’ve woken him up and now you’re attempting to tease him? You do look content, eyes fluttered shut and humming around him lowly.

Nanami grabs you by your neck and lifts you up to prop you on his lap, of course you whine and attempt to pry his hand away: it really doesn’t even hurt you’re just so over dramatic: a drama queen as Satoru puts it.

Kento grabs the bridge of his nose in irritation before speaking up, “Can I ask what you’re doing at-“ he looks at the clock on the bedside table, 4:00.

You don’t say anything but of course you pick up the hint when his head turns to the time. Being the mischievous thing you are, you begin licking at his neck, cute white tipped tail swaying back and forth behind you. A deep exhale leaves his lips whilst making no attempt to move or stop you.

You fix your body on top of him, pressing your greedy cunt over his half hard cock, hissing at the good pressure your clit received. He’s already declared when he had been woken up that he won’t help you get off at all, no matter how much you release those cute yelps in desperation.

Your hips begin to move forward and back, his clothed cock slipping in between your folds, your panties are quite bothersome but he won’t tell you to remove them either.

“Mmm..” “Ken-“ you whimpered, coaxing him to help you: it’s started now, you’ll call his name over and over until you get your way, but he’s having none of it.

“Keep going” he attempts to sound void of emotions but the grunt he lets out almost gives him away, you don’t stop grinding your pussy against him. He leans you back a bit to lift up your shirt, your nipples begging him to attend to their needs.

A hot mouth wraps around one of them and sucks, sucks so hard it has you gripping his hair, it doesn’t bother him it just adds on to the stimulation, the combo of you still bouncing against his cock.

You finally get the memo to tug your panties to the side with your free hand, and in the process pulls his cock and balls free, he hissed behind clenched teeth at the rush of cold air against it.

Kento is too big for you to take in all the way, your poor cunt just can’t handle all of him: the first time he attempted it, you could both barely breathe with the amount of times you came just from slipping in a inch every so often.

You line up his fat tip with your pussy, making sure to rub his cock against your clit a few times.

“Ngh…” the sounds coming from your throat as you slowly lower yourself down become louder with each push past his tip.

Finally are you halfway do you stop fully.

“F..uck.. mmmnn..” Nanami groans around your nipple.

His cock fills you up so good, already pressing on that sweet spot, your thighs ache from the position but that doesn’t stop your naughty body from slowly fucking yourself on him, it’s not long till he’s had enough and breaks his vow by flipping you on your back and placing your legs on his shoulders, inching closer to you he has you in a mean, mating press. He wastes no time in pulling all the way and slamming right back into you. Your mewls fill the room rather quickly, the way his cock drags against your walls has you clenching around him nonstop.

“Mhnn, Kent- Kento” you gasp out, he doesn’t acknowledge the desperate look on your face, already so close to cumming, the sounds of his grunting makes you so much more wetter. A thick hand moves itself to your tail and pinches it over and over, and the noise you let out is pornographic, straight out of a film, you’re so sensitive there.

Your clit is throbbing so bad, needy bud needing to be rubbed, you shakily move your fingers to said clit and begin moving side to side, your fingers glide across so easy due to just how wet you are, Nanami hasn’t stopped pinching the end of your nail, everything feels so good: a cock slamming into you nonstop, your fingers on your clit, and added stimulation on your tail. Your body convulses while Kento holds you still: still fucking into you, electric pulses are sent throughout your whole body, you tighten around him and finally cum, cumming with a loud scream that it’s sure to disturb the neighbors.

That doesn’t mean Kento is done when you slump and attempt to catch your breath, he sits himself up on his knees giving you a moment, not that it can be called that, pushing one of your legs towards you, he begins his pace again, you can hear better now, the room is filled with your annoying babbling and the sounds of his pelvis meeting your ass. His balls are so heavy, needing immediately to fill you up, maybe even push you over the edge one more time but he wants to extend this as long as possible, you being able to do nothing but take your impending orgasms nonstop.

[seresinhangmanjake]

The One I Want: Part 3.5 - Jake POV

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Plus size!reader

Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Warnings: This chapter is written in first-person (warning you now so don't come for me later if it bothers you pretty please) Judgment related to weight. Cursing. Fluff. Angst. Eventual smut (alluded to/or other). Self-esteem issues.

Note: These Jake POV chapters are not necessary to read to understand or follow with the rest of the story!

Words: 1115 (i told ya it'd be shorter)

The One I Want Masterlist

Jake:

“If she doesn’t end up going for you, send her my way,” Javy whispers so only I can hear. 

Turning sharply, I whack him upside the head. I tell myself it's mostly so Javy stops looking at you the way he is, but I know it’s also a way to release my frustration at realizing my brain is only the slightest bit faster than my instincts. My brain just barely held me back from instinctually snapping ‘mine’ the second you walked into the place and I saw the look on my friend’s face. But thankfully it did. Because you’re not mine. Not really. Not at all. 

You don’t notice the smack, and Nat and Bradley have seen the same interaction enough to know it’s not genuine. Although, this time I can’t fully say that it isn’t. Their eyes find you and you blush under all four pairs; mine included, of course, since I can’t seem to manage to keep them off of you anyway. I don’t try anymore. 

“H-Hi,” you say with a lick of nerves. 

The look on your face screams ‘too much; too many people; too many eyes’, and I would instantly feel like an ass if it weren’t for the fact that when you agreed to meet them, you seemed happy about it. After a month and a half, you were finally willing to learn more about my life, integrate yourself into my world, and I wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass me by. But seeing you now, in the aftermath of putting my excitement above your anxiety, the guilt creeps up on me. 

“It’s good to see you again,” Nat says, carefully wiping away the deer-in-headlights expression off your face. Your shoulders settle and, albeit tentatively, you smile. The same smile I thought I would’ve grown immune to by now, but no. It still kicks my heart into overdrive in a way no other has. 

And that’s the problem. That’s the thing not allowing me to surrender in my efforts to open you up to me. I just want more; crave it; each day contemplate how I can coax new pieces of you to the surface. 

There was a brief period in those first three days when I prayed that what I saw in you was merely a challenge. A beautiful woman who doesn’t want me is rare, as ridiculously vain as it is to say. But it’s the truth. I know the game of cat and mouse well. The playful back and forth that inevitably ends up with the woman in my bed. And damn, did I want to play. But what I had allowed myself to assume was a need to conquer grew into genuine interest. It grew so quickly, in such an all-consuming manner, that I didn’t know what to do with myself. 

I still don’t. 

Instead, I act on impulse, and that usually leaves me doing what I must, asking what I must, to get to know you. At times, successfully. Others, not so much. Never before has the phrase ‘one step forward, two steps back’ applied so heavily to my life. 

You ease yourself into the kitchen and Javy takes it upon himself to give you his name and wrap you up in a hug; muscled arms irritatingly just barely bigger than mine squeezing you tight. It’s returned, though much less enthusiastically. 

When his arms have been around you far too long for my liking, my fingers fist in the back of his shirt and tug until he releases you. 

“I’m Bradley,” my final friend—potentially my new best friend if Javy keeps his shit up—offers with a wave.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” you reply.

I feel my lips curve all on their own at the rising confidence in your voice. You entered, took a moment to adjust to the room and the people occupying it, and then found your footing. A familiar adapt-to-survive skill I am slowly learning you possess. 

My friends smile, then look at me. Which is fair, considering the silence filling the room is my fault. I told them not to ask you too many questions. Not to pry into your past. Not to be too curious about your plans while you’re in the area. I left them with nothing and nowhere to go.

“How was your morning,” I ask. 

“Good actually. I got a job.”

I stand a little straighter. “You did?” 

I know I'm coming off a little too eager at that information, but it’s the first indication you’ve given that says you intend to stick around for a while. So far, you’ve not made an effort to find friends, you haven’t bought yourself anything that can’t fit in a backpack, and, until now, hadn’t found a job. It was a developing pattern that kept me in a state of wondering if I’ll wake one morning to find you gone. But if you got yourself a job then that has to be a good sign of things to come. 

You nod. “It’s not much. Just cashier at the gift shop across from the beach, but at least I’ll be able to start paying you for last month's rent.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. You don’t have to pay me,” I say. Because it’s true. Having you around, knowing I come home to someone every day, is enough. And the reality of it is, I don’t need the money. 

With a raised brow, Nat smirks, and I wonder if it’s too obvious. If I’m too obvious. 

“I’m paying you, Jake,” you state with an edge of harshness that has ‘two steps back’ repeating in my brain. And before I can think to argue with you, you’ve muttered something about taking a shower and have disappeared into your room. 

When I look back to the small group at the side, my brows dip in irritation. Nat is still smirking. Bradley is shaking his head. And Javy’s lips are pinched tight to hold in a laugh threatening to burst. 

I sigh as I lean my weight against the countertop of the kitchen island. “What?” 

“‘Oh, don’t worry. You don’t have to pay me,’” Bradley mocks in a voice much higher pitched than mine. 

“You’re making fun of me for being nice?”

“No, No,” he corrects, glancing between Nat and Javy before once again meeting the glare in my eyes. “It’s just interesting. It was only two months ago that you were expecting Brit to pay rent and she had your dick inside of her a few times a week. She never even got a discount, but this chick lives here for nothing.”

A beat passes. 

Then Javy’s laugh finally breaks free. 

---

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @rosiahills22 @oliviah-25 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @cehenyne @tngrace

[strwberri-milk]

First Aid Isn't Cheap

Rafayel x GN!Reader || Comf || 2 167 words

Rafayel can’t see again. It’d be helpful if you could stay with him for a few nights until he gets his vision back.

Thomas’s text glows at you as you pack your bag, not bothering to check twice what you’re bringing. Thankfully this time Rafayel’s self inflicted blindness falls in line with a week long break you’ve been given at work, allowing you to devote all your time to him as you see fit.

When you arrive, you find Rafayel happily working in his studio as though there’s nothing wrong. The only way you know he can’t see is when he turns in the direction of you when you open the door, brows furrowing as he tries to figure out who it is. His eyes are unfocused, looking in your direction but not at you in that intense way that he typically does.

“Oh, you made it. Didn’t Thomas just text you? That was fast,” he says as he walks over to you, pulling you and your overnight bag into a hug.

“I was worried you’d trip and break your ankle to add on to the list of things I need to take care of you for. Knowing you you’d try to milk this to keep me here as long as possible,” you scold, still hugging him back as much as you can.

“Don’t worry – I told you already this is pretty common. I’ll be fine. If you don’t want to babysit me you really don’t have to. I can take care of myself.”

You stare at him open mouthed, glad that he can’t see the expression on your face.

You know that this happens to him a lot. You know it’s a result of him overworking himself. You know that he can take care of himself, and you know that technically speaking, he doesn’t need you to watch over him. Rafayel, for all your grievances, is actually incredibly self sustainable. He’s more than capable of taking care of himself, a certain independence about him that you don’t think you’d ever be able to get rid of.

That doesn’t mean that you don’t worry about him though.

You drop your bag, Rafayel turning back to discern if he can figure out what’s happening. He can make out general forms and colours, brain connecting the two to get a general idea of what he’s looking at. He’s upset by the fact that he can’t see your face but having you near him will just have to sate him for now.

“Do you need help with that?” he asks, reaching down just to brush his fingers against your hand.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just go set up in your room. Your phone is near you right? Call me if you need anything while I put my stuff away,” you say quickly, turning out of his studio to head to his bedroom.

You’re glad that he couldn’t see you. You’re glad your voice didn’t waver. You’re glad that you can cry in peace in his bedroom because is its own building. He wouldn’t be able to hear you unless he was in there with you, arms wrapped around your waist as he tries to coax you into telling him what’s wrong. The worst part is you know it’ll work, that all your anger and anxiety towards him will dissipate the second his voice hits your ears and this is the only chance you’ll have to try and stay strong against him.

You unpack your things, opening his closet and smiling at the fact that the clothes you forgot last time are still there. They’re freshly laundered as well, hanging amongst his things as though they’ve always been there. It just makes your heart hurt even more, so distracted by your own thoughts that you don’t hear him walk into his room.

Just as you thought, he wraps his arms around your waist, chin sitting your shoulder as he nuzzles against you.

“I’m gonna go take a shower. Do you wanna join me?” he asks, peppering your cheek in kisses.

On a normal day you’d jump at the opportunity, regardless of whether or not things are going to escalate but right now you don’t think you can manage it. You shake your head, Rafayel feeling the movement against his nose.

“Do you need me in there? If you do I will.”

Your eyes stay focused straight ahead, tidying up his surprisingly neat closet just to keep your hands focused. His brow furrows as he realises there’s something simmering just beneath the surface, He decides not to ask right now, hoping you’d talk to him once you’re ready.

“If I do, I’ll call for you. Promise.”

You nod and he reluctantly lets you go, a little distracted by the way you felt as he showers. He tries to figure out what could have happened – you didn’t say that there was anything strange happening at work and the last time the two of you were together you were perfectly fine. All he knows is that he thinks you need him right now, wanting to get out of the water for once to come back to your side.

Shortly after Rafayel heads into the washroom you hear the doorbell ring. You make your way over to his studio entrance, watching a delivery person drop off a giant bundle of food before driving off. You wait for them to leave before grabbing whatever it is he seems to have ordered for dinner, bringing it back to the bedroom to unpack.

You smile at the selection of food once you recognise the logo. It’s all your favourites. Of course, he was going to be sweet enough to order things you want to eat, even if he couldn’t read the menu on his phone. He hates talking to people on a good day but you know in order to get this spread he had to call the restaurant himself to place the order, probably doing it all for you. Maybe he knows you’re upset and he’s trying to butter you up and, just like every other time, you know you’re falling for it.

“Foods here?” he asks, sniffing a little as he comes beside you. You set everything up on a desk in his room, pulling a seat over and guiding him to sit down.

“I made you a plate of your favourites,” you say in response, handing him some cutlery as you take his hand to show him where everything is. He pouts a little, looking at you as he puts his free hand on yours.

“Feed me? I can’t see. I need you to pity me a little,” he teases, making you roll your eyes.

“Fine. Here.”

You bring a spoon to his mouth, gently guiding him to make sure he actually does manage to eat. You resist the urge to tease him, taking a bite yourself once he’s got his in his mouth.

“I’ve been staying up for a while to work on my next series,” he starts in way of an explanation.

“I’ve just been so excited to finish it that I haven’t really been sleeping or eating. It’s been a while since the last time I’ve been this motivated to work on something. Did you see some of them when you came in? How did you think they looked?” he asks excitedly, clearly anticipating your answer.

You think back to what you do remember, trying to see if you can conjure up anything before shaking your head in defeat.

“I didn’t notice them. I was more focused on you.”

Rafayel smirks, bringing your hand up to press a kiss against your knuckles.

“You’re quite the flatterer. Stuck in a room of beautiful art and all you can look at is the artist slaving away.”

“Course I am. You overworked yourself again.”

A sprinkle of frustration sinks into your words, Rafayel catching the tone but not wanting to push his luck by playing it off. His grip tightens on your hand, nuzzling his cheek against it.

“I’m fine. The doctor said that it looked better this time than other times. That’s a good thing.”

You don’t feel as reassured by his words as he wanted you to.

Night falls around the two of you, Rafayel’s arms around your shoulders keeping you securely against his chest. You can’t really fall asleep, mind racing with thoughts as you trace aimless shapes on the blanket. You can feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back, steady in his slumber.

Without warning, you feel tears staring to slide down your cheeks. You bring a hand up to wipe at your tears, muffling the sobs that come unprovoked. Here in silence being held by the man who means more than life to you you can’t help but cry for him. At him.

You wish he took better care of himself. You wish he paid more attention to his body. You wish that he didn’t do things that made you worry and worry, stomach tying itself in knots as your brain continuously goes to the worst-case scenario. He really could hurt himself like this but his flippant attitude towards himself just makes it worse. It’s probably going to be impossible for you to convince him to take better care of himself, an absolute slave to his own whims.

Rafayel wakes up shortly thereafter, you unaware until he somehow manages to turn you to face him. He shushes you gently, hands reaching to brush away the tears on your face. He didn’t need to see you to know you having long memorised each and every part of your body. You want to push him away, yell some sense into him but you know that it’s not really his fault.

“What’s wrong? Did you have a nightmare?”

“No. Nothing like that. I just…Rafayel…you can’t keep doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“Last time this happened you said maybe it’d stick. Then today you said the doctor said that your eyes are better this time than other times but why does there need to be other times?”

“You’re worried about me,” Rafayel exhales.

“Yes!” you say a little louder than intended, sniffling as you try not to cry as much.

“I worry about you. And before, I just had to worry about smaller things. Then, I find out you love using rare and almost dangerous materials but thankfully, you can fight and thankfully, you have other ways to source your pigments. I can protect you from those things. I can fight too. But when you do things like this to yourself I can’t do anything about it. How – how can I help you if you won’t even help yourself?” you babble, hands knotting in his shirt as you cry.

“I just want you to be healthy and well. I don’t want to worry about you going blind forever. I wouldn’t love you any less, I promise, but I don’t want you to lose something so important to you.

“You always talk about the world so vividly. How things smell, how they look, how it feels against your skin. I want you to be able to tell me about how you experience the world unabashedly. I want you to be healthy and well. I don’t want to keep getting texts about how you’re feeling lightheaded from fasting for three days unintentionally or your doctor asking me to pick you up because you’ve strained another muscle from painting in the same position for hours on end.”

He listens attentively as you cry to him, brushing back your bangs and cupping your face in his hands. He nods empathetically, softly agreeing with you whenever you need a break before continuing to rant at him.

“I’m sorry my love,” he says, kissing your forehead.

“I’m not used to having someone worry about me this much. I’ve been by myself for so long. You understand, don’t you?” he asks, thumb rubbing against your cheek.

“I forget sometimes that I have someone who cares about me. That if I’m hurt, you’re hurt. I forget that as much as I love you, you love me just as much because I don’t feel worthy of your affections.”

“You are,” you say stubbornly, burying your face in his neck.

“I love you so much. That’s why I worry so much.”

“I know, I know. I promise I’ll get better for you.”

He continues to repeat his promise as many times as you need to hear it, mad at himself for upsetting you so much. You manage to exhaust yourself from crying soon enough, snoring lightly in his arms when you finally fall asleep. He buries his nose in your hair, taking in a deep breath of you as he holds you tightly.

The tension finally slips off of your shoulders as he swears that this time will be the last time. He just wants to give you everything you want, knowing that if it’d make you happy he’d do anything.

[bloody-bee-tea]

We have to match

This fic was entirely inspired by by this amazing art by @jjks-dodo

The first time it happens, Suguru doesn't know what to do with the present Satoru shoves into his hands.

“It’s not my birthday,” is the first thing out of his mouth, because it’s the first of December, so it’s actually closer to Satoru’s birthday than his own.

“I know that,” Satoru gives back, bouncing on the balls of his feet as if he’s vibrating out of his skin with excitement.

It’s kind of his default state whenever he does something, though, so it doesn’t really clue Suguru in on what’s going on here.

“What is this, then?” Suguru asks, lifting the present slightly. It’s wrapped, though haphazardly so, and Suguru knows that Satoru must have done it himself.

“If you’d unpack it, you’d know,” he snaps out, slightly on edge so this must be important to him.

Still, Suguru can’t help but to want to know more before he unwraps it.

“I’d like to know the occasion first, if you don’t mind.”

He’s wrecking his brain, trying to figure out if he missed some important date, some anniversary he wasn’t aware of–he wouldn’t put it past Satoru to remember the first time they shared a popsicle or something and then make a big deal out of it–but nothing comes to mind.

“It’s Christmas,” Satoru informs him, and it only serves to make Suguru frown harder.

“It’s really not,” he gives back, because it’s December 1st. Christmas is still far away, and it’s not even as if Suguru celebrates it anyway.

He didn’t think Satoru would, either, what with his family and all but clearly he’d been wrong about that.

“But it’s the Advent Season,” Satoru almost whines out, clearly bothered by the fact that Suguru didn’t open his present yet. “Will you just open it already, goddamit.”

Suguru hesitates for a moment longer, mostly just to annoy the hell out of Satoru, but he sees how the bouncing slows down, sees how Satoru worries the hem of his sleeves with his fingers and Suguru just knows that this is important to him, no matter what is in the present.

It’s important enough to Satoru to make him nervous about this and Suguru doesn’t have it in him to let him wait longer.

“Fine, fine, relax, would you,” he mutters, even as he rips the paper wrapping apart and he momentarily goes still when he finds a sweater.

A Christmas sweater to be precise.

It’s red and green with little reindeers all over and it’s kind of hideous if Suguru were to be honest, but he can’t be. Not when Satoru looks at him with so much expectation written on his face.

“Thanks?” Suguru finally manages to say, still unsure what he’s supposed to do with this, when Satoru suddenly whips out a matching sweater.

“The time leading up to Christmas is the best time and we’ll have to match, so I got you that one to match mine,” he excitedly says, clearly reassured by the fact that Suguru didn’t immediately throw the sweater in his face.

“We have to match,” Suguru repeats slowly, and the corners of his mouth twitch when Satoru nods vigorously, making his hair flop around.

When a strand gets stuck in Satoru’s eyelashes, Suguru reaches out without thought to push it away. He briefly feels panic lick up his throat when Satoru goes still under his fingers, but Suguru pretends as if nothing happens and takes his hand back as if it didn’t mean anything.

“You sure you got my size right?” he asks to break the weird tension between them and it’s enough to jolt Satoru back into action, though he can’t quite hide the faint blush on his face.

“A size  bigger than me, because of your stupidly huge shoulders,” he huffs out and Suguru laughs.

“I keep telling you, if you’d actually train like at least once a weak you wouldn’t be all noodle-limbed.”

“I’m not noodle-limbed!” Satoru huffs and puffs with outrage and Suguru laughs even louder. 

They both know it’s not true anyway; Satoru is good enough at hand-to-hand combat to best just about everyone they know, except, of course, Suguru.

“If you and your stupidly jacked arms rip this sweater apart, I’m not getting you a new one,” Satoru hisses at him when Suguru takes of the shirt he’s currently wearing to try the sweater on.

It’s a nice thought, not having to wear this hideous thing, but Suguru just knows that for all his faked outrage Satoru would be devastated and Suguru couldn’t stand it. So he slips into the sweater and lets out a relieved little sigh when it actually fits him.

He only feels slightly stupid when he turns around and he gives a pointed look at Satoru’s own shirt.

“Where’s yours then,” he wants to know and Satoru lights up like a Christmas tree.

“I have it right here, wait,” he rushes out, magicking out a second sweater from god-knows-where and he slips it on without hesitation. “Now we match,” he laughs out, bright and happy and for that alone Suguru would wear much worse things than a stupid, cute, matching Christmas sweater.

~*~*~

The second time it happens, Suguru is kind of expecting it. He knows Satoru too well to think he’d let something like this go, would only do it for one year and so when Satoru hands him a slightly better wrapped present, he accepts it without complaint.

“Cutting it a little bit close, huh?” he asks, because it’s already late in the night of the first of December and it’s not like Satoru to miss out on even a day of this.

Last year he made Suguru wear the sweater almost constantly, only allowing him to take it off to get it washed and for missions and so for him to almost miss an entire day is uncharacteristic.

“Yeah, well–” Satoru trails off, clutching his jacket more tightly around himself and Suguru narrows his eyes at him.

“What did you do?” he wants to know because it’s clear as day that Satoru is up to something.

“Nothing,” Satoru easily gives back, too fast and too smooth and Suguru’s fingers still on the paper. 

“I don’t think I want this anymore,” he says, shoving the parcel into Satoru’s chest who shoves it right back.

“You have to, though Suguru, we have to match, remember?” 

“I’m not so sure I want to match with you anymore,” Suguru lies straight through his teeth and a painful stab of regret is all he gets for his trouble when hurt briefly flashes over Satoru’s face.

“But–it’s tradition, right?” Satoru asks and Suguru shakes his head.

“One year doesn’t make a tradition, Satoru,” he tells him, though he does get back to unwrapping the sweater.

This one is thankfully only red as far as Suguru can see so far, and so that already makes it better than the last one, at least in Suguru’s opinion.

That thought only holds for as long as he needs to fully unfold the sweater though, because of course it wouldn’t be that easy, not when it comes to Satoru.

The words ‘I’m the naughty one’ are stitched into the front in white and Suguru lowers it just enough to be able to glare at Satoru.

“What the hell is this?” he demands to know only for Satoru to grin brightly at him as he takes off his jacket, revealing a matching red sweater underneath it.

Except his says ‘I’m the nice one’.

“Absolutely not,” Suguru whispers under his breath, even as Satoru laughs right in his face in his glee but he gets the wind knocked out of him when Suguru throws his own sweater in Satoru’s face and then uses that moment of distraction to tackle him to the bed.

“Absolutely not!” Suguru repeats louder this time and starts to wrestle Satoru out of the sweater.

“Hey, hey, what are you doing, Suguru,” Satoru shrieks out, laughing so hard he can barely breathe when Suguru tries to distract him by tickling him but even like this it takes him a long time to finally, finally get Satoru out of the sweater.

“If one of us is the naughty one, it’s you,” Suguru pants out, sitting across Satoru’s legs and looking down at him, his hair falling around his face, bun having come undone somewhere in their tousle.

“But everyone expects that,” Satoru pouts at him, still breathing hard from screaming and laughing and his face is flushed red.

He’s absolutely beautiful.

“And besides, don’t act as if you don’t encourage me at every turn,” he adds and it’s not as if Suguru can even deny that.

Enabling Satoru is a bit of a bad habit of his but not everyone needs to know that.

“Do not,” he says, just to be contrary, and pulls the ‘I’m the nice one’ sweater over his head, so that there’s no chance of Satoru taking it back.

He stills when it settles around him.

“That’s my size,” he says, fixing Satoru with his eyes and Satoru blinks up at him.

“We have the same size?” he tries, even though they both know that’s bullshit and Suguru proves it to him by reaching for the naughty sweater and checking the size there.

“This one is one size smaller, though,” Suguru says and shoves the sweater almost into Satoru’s face.

“My mistake,” Satoru says, still not able to admit that he did this on purpose it seems and there’s only one possible punishment for that.

Suguru flops down on top of him.

“Uff, you oaf, don’t you know you’re heavy as fuck?” Satoru breathes out but his attempts at pushing Suguru off are half-hearted at best.

“I’m also tired as hell,” Suguru easily gives back and dares to nuzzle his face into the crook of Satoru’s neck. “I think I might sleep right here.”

“Hey, hey, Suguru!” Satoru squeaks out, though of course he’d never admit to that and Suguru huffs out a laugh.

Satoru is warm under him and kind of poky with his sharp edges but it’s the single most comfortable position Suguru has been in, simply because it’s Satoru, and soon enough he really gets sleepy.

“‘m gonna sleep now,” he whispers out and the last thing he knows is how Satoru scratches at his scalp as he breathes out a soft “Okay”.

~*~*~

Suguru is already holding his hands out when Satoru steps into the room.

“Let’s see what horrible thing you brought this time,” he says, making grabby hands at Satoru, who seems to have frozen right in the doorway.

“Uhm,” Satoru says, looking down at the present in his hands before he looks back up at Suguru.

He’s more nervous than he was even the first time he did this and it instantly puts Suguru on edge.

“Is it that hideous?” he wants to know, simply snatching the present out of Satoru’s hand, who tries to get it back but ultimately fails because he still can’t best Suguru when it comes to anything even resembling close combat.

“I just–” Satoru cuts himself off, clearly unsure of himself and Suguru fights the urge to soothe his nerves.

He fails miserably, because he always does when it comes to Satoru.

“You want me to give it back?” he asks, offering the present to Satoru, who doesn’t reach out for it. “If you don’t want to, we can skip this year,” Suguru goes on, even though it’s clear that some part of Satoru at least must want because he did get the sweater after all.

“No, it’s just–you might hate it.”

Satoru hasn’t been that unsure since the very first week of them knowing each other and Suguru hates it with a passion.

“Why would I?” he carefully asks but Satoru only shrugs. “Can I unwrap it?”

“Sure. Just remember that it doesn’t–you don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.”

Of course I want to sits at the tip of his tongue, but Suguru bites it back. It’s not going to help if he reassures Satoru with meaningless words right now, so instead of saying that he busies himself with unwrapping this year's sweater.

This one is green for a change but by now Suguru knows to wait until he sees the front before he forms his decision on this, so he quickly unfolds it, holding it out in front of him.

In stark white it says ‘Family Christmas’ on the front and Suguru is glad that the sweater is hiding his face for the moment because to think that Satoru was nervous about this hurts him acutely.

“You hate it,” Satoru grumbles when Suguru takes a moment too long to say something. “I knew you’d hate it, that was such a dumb idea,” he goes on, his voice barely above a whisper and Suguru lowers the sweater so fast, Satoru flinches.

“Of course you’re my family, you idiot,” Suguru breathes out, instantly honing in on what made Satoru so nervous because he knows him after all. “It’s a great sweater.”

“It–is?” Satoru wants to know, clearly still not convinced and Suguru doesn’t hesitate to slide it over his shirt. 

“Of course it is,” he vehemently says, because it is. 

Satoru doesn’t quite seem convinced though, so Suguru pulls him into a hug. 

“You are my family, idiot,” he says, more fondly than maybe necessary, but Satoru doesn’t call him out on it and instead slings his arms around him.

“You sure?”

“I’ve been wearing stupid matching Christmas sweaters with you for the past two years, you really think I would do that for just anybody?”

Satoru doesn’t need to know that that really has nothing to do with being family and all with Suguru being stupidly in love with him. At least not yet.

Though a plan is slowly starting to take form in Suguru’s mind.

“I should hope not, actually,” Satoru gives back and Suguru rests his head on top of Satoru’s.

He doesn’t move away, and he doesn’t protest about the hug as much as he normally does–however feigned his protest usually is–and so Suguru knows that this really means a lot to him.

It means a lot to him, too, and so he’s more than content to stay right where he is.

~*~*~

Suguru barges into Satoru’s room at the tail end of the last day of November.

“I’ve got a present for you!” he calls out, throwing the wrapped gift right into Satoru’s face when he’s not quick enough to sit up and catch it.

Nerves are licking up Suguru’s spine but like this he can’t talk himself out of it. Not again. He talked himself out of it so often during the last year–years, really–and he thinks it’s time that one of them man’s up. He thinks he knows what Satoru’s answer is going to be, has seen it in the lingering stares, has felt it in the prolonged touches but there’s still that small chance that it’s all just because Satoru sees him as family.

As just family, and nothing more.

“What’s this?” Satoru wants to know, turning the present in his hands and Suguru rolls his eyes at him.

“If you’d open it, you’d know,” he shoots back, not sitting down next to Satoru because he needs to be able to read Suguru’s own sweater once he unpacked his.

It doesn’t help with the nerves, when Satoru has to look up at him like that, though.

“Is this–a sweater?” Satoru asks, squeezing the package in his hands. “Did you get me a Christmas sweater?” He almost sounds accusing and Suguru raises an eyebrow at him.

“What? You can do it, but I can’t?”

“But I have ours picked out already!”

“Yeah, well, shucks. It’s my turn, this year,” Suguru decides and he closes Satoru’s mouth when it drops open.

“Wow, didn’t know you could be so rude,” he mutters, Suguru’s hand still under his chin and Suguru gives him his best grin.

“I learned from the best. Now, if you would?”

“Now, if you would,” Satoru repeats mockingly under his breath, but he does rip into the paper, quickly unveiling the sweater.

At first glance it’s simply red, but of course there’s something written on the front and Suguru’s heart beats in his chest.

“I have everything I want for Christmas,” Satoru reads out loud and Suguru can see the frown on his face. “That’s not even funny, Suguru,” he then whines out, turning his gaze back to Suguru, who feels as if he could die on the spot.

His mouth his dry, his heart is beating so fast he’s afraid it might jump right out of his chest and the butterflies in his stomach make him a little bit sick.

“It’s not supposed to be funny,” he still somehow gets out as he opens his jacket and shows Satoru the matching sweater he’s wearing.

It’s green and the words “It’s me, I’m everything” are written on the front.

Suguru watches how Satoru’s eyes go wide as he slowly takes in the words and he knows it’s all going to be fine when Satoru blushes a furious red.

“What does that mean? Suguru, what does that mean?” he demands to know, almost shouting out the words in his urgency and Suguru smiles at him.

“Take an educated guess,” he replies, though he doesn’t torture Satoru–or himself–any longer.

He bends down, briefly pressing his lips to Satoru’s to make it abundantly clear just what this all means and he knows Satoru finally goes with the program when his hands fly up to tangle in Suguru’s sweater, keeping him right where he is, keeping him close.

“Does that mean I don’t get any other Christmas presents this year?” Satoru pouts out, though Suguru can see how his eyes shine with happiness. 

He leans in to taste that smile once more.

“Maybe if you’re being good, I have one or two for you,” he breathes out, and this time it’s Satoru who leans in for a kiss.

“But everyone knows I’m the naughty one,” Satoru mutters against his lips and Suguru laughs.

Satoru steals the sound right from his lips.

“Maybe I’ll part with that sweater just this once,” Suguru muses but Satoru shakes his head. 

“Not a chance in hell, we’re never going to take these ones off. I love you.”

Trust Satoru to still be the first one to say it, Suguru fondly thinks as he’s almost drowning in his love. 

“I love you,” he quickly gives back, peppering Satoru’s face with kisses until he’s laughing with happiness.

“I want everyone to know,” Satoru eventually says, once they are cuddled close on the bed and Suguru snorts out a laugh.

“Kind of inevitable if you don’t want to take that sweater off ever again,” he gives back and Satoru beams at him.

“Best way to tell everyone. Best way to tell me, actually, “he adds after a moment and Suguru simply has to kiss him again.

“Thought you might like it,” Suguru nods, pulling Satoru closer. “Glad you like it.”

“Love it,” Satoru immediately corrects him. “Just like I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Suguru mutters, getting sleepy now that all the adrenaline is out of his system and he’s warm and cozy in bed, with the love of his life safely in his arms.

He nuzzles his face against Satoru’s shoulder and breathes one more kiss on his skin before sleep slowly drags him under.

The last thing he hears his a muttered “You think there are sweaters for proposing?” and Suguru falls asleep with a smile on his face.

He really wouldn’t mind a sweater like that.

[mimiii-3]

Twst boys react to reader addressing them as “my man”

Note/warning: gn reader, fluff, short-ish reader

. . .

Nrc student makes some snide comment about the twst boy being unable to take care of you. Before the twst boy can respond, you stand up for him.

“I don’t care what you think of us! He’s my man and that’s all you need to know.”

Epel

• happy noises

• this is a dream come true - all he ever wanted was to be seen as a man in your eyes

• pokes his chest out and drapes his arm across your shoulders

• struts off with you by his side

• completely forgets the implications of the nrc student’s comment

• feels giddy for the rest of the day

• walks you back to ramshackle dorm

• gives you extra goodnight kisses on the porch

• can’t get a wink of sleep because the scene keeps replaying in his head

• probably screams into his pillow and kicks his feet

“If I’m your man, then that makes you the love of my life.”

Jack

• was five seconds away from raging out before his brain shut down

• probably didn’t help that you were hanging off of his toned bicep when you called him ‘your man’

• doesn’t even bother reprimanding the student for his rude comment

• leans down and levels his face with yours

• brushes his nose against yours and leans back to stare into your eyes

• still can’t wrap his head around the fact that you’re his and he’s yours

• follows you back to ramshackle dorm for a much-needed cuddle session

• wraps you in his arms while he nuzzles the top of your head

“No, I was not embarrassed. I was just pleasantly surprised that you admitted it.”

Deuce

• turns from a feral dog into a wide-eyed lap dog

• his originally violent plan flew out the window after you called him ‘your man’

• accidentally lets the student leave unharmed because he’s too busy vibrating from excitement

• holds his head up as you two walk back to class

• has this smug look on his face all throughout your shared classes

• has to finally let go of your hand as you two walk back to your respective dorms

• calls his mom and tells her what happened

• the two of them getting all giddy and planning your wedding

“If you hadn’t distracted me I could have pummeled that scumbag. Well since he’s gone…call me your man again.”

. . .

Note: might do a part two of this with other characters

[suntoru]

𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚍

synopsis: you find a gigantic stuffed bear at your desk for valentine’s day! how does your genshin best friend react when it’s not from them?

a/n: hi everyone, this is my special valentines day post ( ＾◡＾)っ ♡ i hope you like it, it’d my second time writing for genshin 😋

warnings: a bit of swearing, fluff, crack, semi-angst

bnha version

diluc would be the cutest bby <333 he pouts slightly because that was his plan, he wanted to be the one to surprise you :( slightly salty n gets jealous of the bear, buys a bigger, cuter one in hope you’ll replace it. he gets urges to snatch it out of your hands, but he just can’t because you look so cute snuggling with it and he doesn’t wanna make you sad.

“…you got a valentines gift? …good for you.”

kaeya pretends to be happy for you, but in reality, he gets self-depreciating thoughts. was it really that easy to make you blush? what if you’ll leave his side one day? is he really going to lose you to some rando who doesn’t even have the courage to give a gift to you theirselves? his insecurities start to rise, but he’s quick to cover it up through his fake teasing and grits his teeth into a smile.

“ah, y/n, you got a gift! and i thought i was going to be the one receiving the most presents.”

childe is another salty man baby >:((( how dare someone try and steal his crush best friend? subtly insults the bear all day 😞 when he sees you protect the bear and call it cute, he literally growls at the bear 💀 first, it’s stealing all of your attention and hugs, now he gets in trouble because of it? because he’s petty, later at night he’ll swipe it and replace it with an identical one. don’t worry, you’ll never know, the only difference is that instead of the bright red bow around it’s neck, it now has an orangey ginger one <3

“pfttt, y/n, that’s the ugliest bear i’ve ever seen! whoever gave you that put in no effort at all!”

kazuha understands the feelings of your secret admirer. after all, how can he keep such a beauty to himself? your smile, your laugh, and your flustered gaze are all memories etched into his brain. he’s dedicated hundreds of haikus and poems to you, but that doesn’t stop him from feeling his heart slightly pang when you get all excited and happy, asking him who he thought it was. if he did the same thing, would you act the same way?

“someone left a present for you? …i see, how thoughtful.”

venti barters you for it. he thinks if he begs nicely and gives you a fair trade, you’ll let him take the bear and dispose of it! he begs you all day, following you around the school for hours. but when you refuse his offer multiple times, he’ll whine and cling onto you. it’s not fair! he swears he’s seen the exact same bear at dollarama for 4 bucks, so why won’t you trade it for his new ps5? you meanie >:(

“y/nnnn, stop being so mean! what else could you possibly want?”

scaramouche rips the cutely wrapped gigantic stuffie from your hands and marches out the classroom despite your protests >:( when he returns to the classroom, he comes back empty handed. he smirks in victory, thinking he’s won, but when he sees the shocked and sad look on your face, he realizes he fucked up. you ignore him for the rest of the day until you find him waiting at your locker with the biggest stuffed bear you’ve ever seen.

“listen idiot, the only reason i got you this was so you’d stop bothering me.”

xiao is… silent. but on the inside, he feels his heart twist. why is he feeling this? while yes, you were his best friend, he didn’t expect to get so attached. but now… you’re tugging on his heartstrings. while he doesn’t say anything, you’ve learned how to read him like an open book, or at least you think you do. when he feels you tap on his shoulder, knocking him out of his thoughts, you extend the bear to him. this is why he was frowning, right? it’s okay, you’ll just share it with him <3

“what? …i don’t want to hold the bear. in fact, keep it as far away from me as possible.”

[wol-fica]

-𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕜 & 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕟-

summary - you and jenna get into an argument about the fact that jenna is putting her work before you.

warnings - swearing, angst, happy ending cause i’m to sappy to break them up over anything except death

——————

Jenna messed up, she knows she did. She made the choice to put her job before her relationship which is why she is in the predicament right now.

Shouting had occurred and a glass on water was smashed, now she is slumped over on the couch with her head in her hands while you took refuge in the guest bedroom.

Jenna sighed, cursing herself out for being such an idiot. How could she let this happen? How could she be such an ass to you, her own girlfriend? Her thoughts invaded her brain so much that she decided to leave and go for a late night stroll.

Stepping out of the apartment, as quietly as she could, Jenna made her way down the hallway to the elevator which she took to the ground floor. After a swift greeting to the receptionist and waving to her neighbor, she exited the building to proceed on her stress-walk.

The sidewalk was lit with the soft glow of the street lamps as she walked, her head leaned down in sorrow. There were some people out, but not one bothered her for pictures or autographs; maybe it was because she looked upset, or no one recognized her as she was kind of hiding her face with her hair.

After about an hour of walking around her apartment building, she finally took a moment to rest on a bench outside of the complex. There, she let her mind take over and let her thoughts finally seep in, remembering what had happened an hour and a half ago.

a little while ago….

“I don’t understand you sometimes,” You said as you washed dishes in the sink while your girlfriend typed away on her laptop.

“Can we not do this now.” Jenna replied, still furiously focused on her computer screen.

“Do what Jenna? Talk? Like normal couples do when they have issues?” You said, waving a sponge around.

“Issues..? We don’t have issues Y/N.”

You slammed a pot down, making her jump slightly as her eyes snapped to you in annoyance.

“Yes, we do, but you are so damn invested in your job that you completely ignore your own relationship half the time.” You snarled, throwing the sponge back into the sink as you stormed past Jenna.

“I’m invested in my job because it’s my job.” She shot back, now standing up to face you, “I have responsibilities you know.”

“Am I not one? Is your girlfriend not a responsibility to you?!”

“Not when she is incredibly annoying!” Jenna scoffed as she crossed her arms angrily, “Why can’t you just shut up and leave me alone?!”

Your face was blank, eyes wide as you stared at Jenna with disbelief. You wanted to cry, to yell, to say something snarky back at her, but your shock at her words left you silent. Slowly, you closed your open mouth and trudged away to the guest room, slamming the door behind you.

back to present…

“Jenna?”

Jenna’s eyes snapped open, looking up to see you teary eyed and wrapped up in her hoodie as you looked down at her with concern and worry.

“Jenna, come inside.” You said, holding out your shaky hand.

She hesitated to take it, but eventually caved in as the chill of the wind over took her stubbornness. You helped her up, gently pulling her back to the building and leading her back to your room.

The silence was loud, deafening even. While you were calm, Jenna was internally freaking out. Were you about to kick her out with her stuff? Did you plan something for her to embarrass herself with when she would return? What were you thinking about her?

“Honey, please sit down.”

Jenna realized she was now back in your shared apartment, standing awkwardly in the kitchen while you waited for her to sit across from you at the island. Gingerly, she sat down, fidgeting with her hands as a means to keep herself calm.

“I’m not mad.” You said, trying to get her to look at you.

“Why aren’t you.” She asked, her head still down.

You sighed, glancing around for a moment before leaning down to gently grasp her chin.

“Because I now understand how stressed you are.” You replied, caressing her cheek, “You are overworked and tired, and we haven’t had any time with each other for the past two months.”

Jenna’s lip trembled, her eyes slowly filling with tears as you exposed her current state. She felt embarrassed, overwhelmingly embarrassed.

“We haven’t spoken or enjoyed each other as couple’s should, and that is ruining both of us.”

She let out a sob, leaning into your palm as you broke down her walls that have been built up over time. Instinctively needing your touch, she lurched forward into your arms in which you wrapped around her protectively while she cried.

“It’s okay to be vulnerable with me, you know I won’t ever judge you for it.” You whispered, hugging her close to you.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry!” Jenna cried into your shoulder, shaking in your lap.

“I know, and I forgive you.” You mumbled into her hair, placing a kiss there as tears clouded your own eyes.

You both embraced, crying together as a way of cathartic means. The rest of the night was spent side by side where cuddles and kisses were exchanged while Jenna made sure you knew she loved you through thick and thin.

————

[sketchy-rosewitch]

Night Out: Bo Sinclair x bimbo!reader

Warnings: Men being creepy, very inappropriate touching.

A/N: Cause of course my brain wants to come up with a bunch of ideas when I have requests I have to do, (y’all’s requests are being done tho and will be out throughout this week)

Masterlist

Music blasts throughout the bar as you sit and wait for Bo to get back to you. You sip on your cosmopolitan and shake to the music smiling to yourself.

You two hadn’t been out in awhile and he decided to take you to a bar and you two had been there chatting with each other and random couples who’d come up to you guys. He hadn’t once left your side until a few minutes ago when he said he had to go to the restroom. So you just decided to sit down.

“How are you this evening?”

You look up from your drink and see a man a few years younger than Bo talking to you. You smile politely. “I’m doin’ pretty well!” You finish your drink, the man seems to notice.

“Let me buy you another one.” He says, smirking at you.

“Oh that sounds great. So are you by yourself tonight? Or do you have a girlfriend?” You ask, not even bothered to change your wording.

“Oh no, single.” The man waves over the bartender and order you and him drinks. “Just looking for someone to hang out with tonight.” You nod and tilt your head sadly, the bartender pours the man his whiskey.

“Awh, well. I’m sorry you’re alone. I- OH!” You gasp jumping up from your seat as whiskey spills all over your skirt.

“Ah shit! My bad.” The man sounds almost uncaring. You don’t even bother to read his emotions though as he takes action immediately. “Let me get you some napkins.” The man reaches over the bar to grab some and starts dabbing different parts of your body. He grabs your boob and you shift a little, not wanting to be rude. He was just helping you clean up after all.

You look up and see Bo walking back. You wave at him, but the look on his face reads not happy, the man doesn’t notice and slightly touches your other boob before moving to wipe down your skirt.

“I think she’s good.” Bo says through gritted teeth. He stops just a foot in front of you and the stranger. The younger man stands and turns to look at him.

“Who the hell are you?”

You perk up in excitement, wanting to answer the question.

“Oh! This is Bo! My boyfriend! I was gonna say you could hang out with us probably since you were lonely but then you spilled the whiskey on me and I completely forgot what I was talking about.” You smile and nod in agreement with yourself.

The man furrows his brows. “The hell were you asking if I had a girlfriend for then?” His tone turns a little aggressive.

“Well…” you put on your thinking face “cause Bo and I have been talking to lots of different couples tonight so I didn’t know if you had a girlfriend that I could talk to!” You explain, the bartender sets down your new drink and you grab it sipping on it through the small black straw. “Why else would you come up and talk to me?”

You hear Bo sigh loudly, you turn your head and look at him.

“He wants you. He ain’t havin’ you either. Fuckin’ creep. If I see you feelin’ up any other girl in this bar your ass is mine. In fact, I suggest you get out to save us all some time.” Bo puts an arm around you protectively, you watch the man shift uncomfortably before making his way out of the bar quickly.

“Was that why he was touchin’ my tits?” Your eyes squint, trying to wrap your head around the weird man. “Cause I noticed I didn’t have any whiskey on them, only on my skirt.” You look at your boyfriend, he sighs again.

“Yes, unfortunately that is why. Just don’t talk to anyone unless I’m around hun.. please. I can’t protect you while I’m pissin’.”

You nod your head, he kisses it and you two find another table to sit at and finish enjoying your night out.

[firstkanaphans]

Hey there! Hope I'm not asking for too much, but could you please give us at least one of the three explicit scenes we were rubbed off? (Uninterrupted version ofc) thank you in advance🙏

Okay, first of all, I need you to know that that is the funniest typo I have ever seen in my life. Please slide back into my inbox and tell me if it was an honest-to-god Freudian slip or if you were just being clever—but either way, kudos to you for making me laugh 😂 Per your request, here is the kitchen scene (uninterrupted vers.) because y’all know I love me some domestic fluff. 

For the third morning in a row, Sand woke up to find Ray in his bed. And just like the two mornings before, he couldn’t quite believe that it was real. In only a few weeks, he and Ray had gone from strangers who frequented the same bar to friends. Or, well, something like that. 

Although Sand had a long list of things he had to do, he allowed himself a few seconds to just stare at the boy lying next to him. Ray always looked good, but Sand preferred him like this: sober and carefree without the usual trappings of wealth adorning his body. In Sand’s bed, with his hair un-styled and his designer clothes discarded, they almost felt like equals. 

He smoothed the covers down over Ray’s still-sleeping body and then crawled out of bed, being extra careful not to wake him. Ray needed his sleep.

Every time Sand stayed over at Ray’s house, Ray would offer to feed him, so Sand felt it was only polite to do the same. He couldn’t afford the typical restaurant fare Ray offered him, but he had plenty of food in the refrigerator. He would make it himself.

He was just putting the finishing touches on breakfast when he heard footsteps behind him.

“Something smells good,” a voice said and then a pair of arms wrapped around his waist. 

Sand turned to find a sleepy Ray resting with his cheek pressed against Sand’s back, still wearing the tank top and boxers he had fallen asleep in. “Me or the breakfast?” he asked.

Ray groaned at the corny joke. “It’s too early for flirting. My brain can’t keep up.” He released Sand, but he didn’t go far. He was like a puppy in that way. Instead, he just peeked over Sand’s shoulder to look at the meal he’d prepared. He let out a whistle, low and impressed. “You sure are multi-talented, aren’t you? Thug by night, cook by morning?”

Sand rolled his eyes. “I’m on my own. If I want to eat, I have to cook. Unlike you, I don’t have an Alfred.”

Ray snorted at the insult. “Asshole. I’m not Bruce Wayne!”

No, Sand was pretty sure Ray was richer than Bruce Wayne. Without a word, he picked a plate piled high with eggs, sausages, croissants, and bacon off of the counter and handed it to Ray, who stared at it as if it was poisonous.

“I can’t stomach it,” he whined, trying to hand it back. “I’m still hungover.”

“Just take a bite. Maybe it’ll help,” Sand said, refusing to take the plate. He had spent enough time with Ray to know that he didn’t eat enough. He filled up on alcohol instead. That was one of the reasons Sand had bothered to cook at all. And yet, the look on Ray’s face made it very clear the food was not going to get eaten. “Or how about a black coffee?”

Ray scrunched his nose in disgust. “I don’t like coffee.” This time when he tried to hand the plate back, Sand took it. 

“Well, what about a hangover pill? That might help.”

“They never do shit for me,” Ray said, crossing his arms over his chest as if it was the pill’s fault and not the fact that he drank like a fish. He was acting like a picky, spoiled child and yet Sand couldn’t let it go. He wanted to help him.

“Water?” he offered as a last resort. Ray shook his head. Sand set the plate back down on the counter, now annoyed. “What do you usually do to get over a hangover, then?”

Ray thought about it and then finally, his face showed an emotion other than contempt. He smirked the same way he did whenever Sand undressed him and then he stepped forward to whisper in his ear. “Jerk off.”

Sand couldn’t help it. He laughed. “You’re a feisty thing in the morning, aren’t you?”

“I’m not kidding! It works,” Ray said, but he was laughing too. “When you do it, your brain releases endorphins. Take a shower after that and”—he shivered as if just the thought brought him pleasure—“it feels damn good.”

“I can’t do it when I’m hungover. I just won’t get hard,” Sand said, staring at Ray fondly. His eyes were sparkling with mirth and Sand would have been able to read the intention in them from a mile away. He had been conditioned to it now. He took a step forward. “So…why’re you telling me this?” 

Ray threw his nose into the air and cocked an eyebrow, but refused to respond. Sand grabbed him by the waistband of his boxers, pulled him closer, and then let the elastic snap back against his skin. Ray jumped.

“You need help?” Sand asked.

Ray closed the distance between them, clearly pleased with the direction this conversation had taken. “Why? You want to?”

Sand did. He always did. He craved Ray the way Ray craved alcohol. He let his hand slip beneath the waistband of Ray’s boxers again, but he never broke eye contact. He wanted to see the way Ray’s eyes darkened, wanted to know that this, at least, was something he could give him.

“What if I do?” Sand asked, so close that when he spoke, his lips brushed against Ray’s. And then, heart racing, he kissed him.

The thing about kissing Ray was that you never knew which version of him you were going to get. Ray vacillated between soft and clingy, wild and passionate—usually depending on how much he’d had to drink—and in both cases, there was an undercurrent of sadness. Of anger. But today, with Ray still recovering from sleep, the negative emotions he fed with alcohol hadn’t yet had a chance to brew. He twined his arms around Sand’s neck and kissed him like he was the only thing in the world that mattered. It was an illusion, but one Sand would happily indulge.  He reached around Ray and picked him up.

Ray let out a yelp of surprise against Sand’s mouth, but once he realized what was happening, he laughed. Sand spun them around, set Ray down on the counter, and for a second, they just looked at each other. Ray’s cheeks and nose were red from kissing and even without the clothes or accessories that he usually wore, he was still beautiful. Sand stripped him of his boxers, took him in hand, and began stroking him.

Ray wasn’t yet hard, but he had always been very receptive to Sand’s touch. It didn’t take long before his dick was standing to attention against his stomach, but although he was clearly enjoying himself–bucking up into Sand’s touch—he was almost preternaturally calm. Instead of focusing on his own pleasure, all of his attention was on Sand.

As Sand jerked him off, Ray let his fingers roam Sand’s face, let them stroke through his hair, let them lift his chin and force him to look him in the eyes. Ray was staring at him as if Sand was beautiful. As if what they were doing was beautiful. And it gave Sand a cursed hope. He couldn’t take it anymore. So instead, he buried his face in Ray’s neck and kissed him there.

Almost immediately, as if breaking eye contact had broken some sort of trance, Ray returned to himself. “Fuck,” he hissed, throwing his head back to give Sand better access to his neck. It took less than a minute before he was making the most desperate sounds, whining and begging for release. 

So Sand gave it to him.

Ray came all over Sand’s hand with a delicious, satisfied moan that filled the whole apartment. It was the most beautiful thing Sand had ever seen.

He washed his hands in the sink and then helped Ray back into his boxers. Ray didn’t even try to help, happy to just sit there and let Sand do all the work. Once that was done, Sand picked him up and set him back down on the ground.

“Now go take that shower,” he said, smacking Ray playfully on the ass. Ray yelped in surprise, but he was smiling. “But when you’re done, you have to eat.”

“Come with me,” Ray said, taking Sand by the hand.

Sand rolled his eyes. “Come with you where?”

Instead of answering, Ray reached out and fondled the very obvious bulge in the front of Sand’s pants. “Come take a shower with me.”

“Ray,” Sand protested. This alone had already eaten up enough time in his busy schedule. 

“Please,” Ray begged, eyes wide, lashes fluttering—that goddamn puppy dog pout that Sand still hadn’t learned to say no to.

“Fine,” he relented. Then he let Ray lead him by the hand into the bathroom where they had spent their first night together, both of them beaming.

[whentheleahvesfall]

Hero & Partner Week - Day 4 - All Prompts

Well I’m like very behind XD At least today is day 7, so that means previous prompts time! And hoo boy… there’s like a lot to go through. So I’ll try try my best at least from this year’s prompts!

Anyway, for day 4, I’m gonna do all of the four prompts. Yes, you read that correctly, I’m here writing for all four prompts because not only do I want to do so, but I wanted to put myself in the shoes of all four of my protagonists haha. Whilst I still try to get my day 3 sorted (and then my day 5 prompt done too ahahshdhsbdhsb), I at least wanted to tackle day 4, so without further ado, I hope you enjoy reading what my scuffed behind brain has to write :)

Great Canyon

Passing over ragged rocks, broken cliff-drops that fell into a fallen abyss and surviving the harsh arid temperatures that blew through the winds of change, a plodding of two comrades making their way to a prophecy-calling psychic type was afoot. Going for a few hours without much in ways of a proper break, a brazen but hyperactive Totodile collapsed in a gap between two beaming pillars of stone, gazing upon them with fears of them potentially toppling over without much realisation.

“How much further do we need to go before we manage to see this um… Xatu…? My legs are practically… hah… killing me over here Scrald…”

Staring back at the Totodile was the human-turned-Pokémon, a Torchic who would often leap into more situations than one without much in the way of thinking. Scrald was desperate to learn anything about why he had come to this world, which for whatever reason made his eagerness to jump into the deep end more annoying for his partner. Ruffling his feathers, the now fire type flung his Totodile friend into a frenzy.

“Yeesh Planker, how many more times do I need to keep pulling these claws of yours? Get moving already, we’ve got no time for a break! I really need to-“

“Yeah yeah, I know, I know. You gotta know why you came here, but am I not allowed as much of a dignified break as this? Like I said, I can’t even think straight too much because of all of this walking…”

The Torchic finally stopped and took a moment to finally sink in the words of Planker, his partner. Sighing and waning his beak ever so slightly, he stopped to sigh and finally rested on an adjacent rock to get to grips with what he wanted to talk about.

“Fine, alright. I get it too, you need to wait. But I just… I can’t get out of my head something that’s been bothering me.”

“The fact that you jump into danger without so much as a precursor of thinking properly?”

“What?! I’m just an outgoing person, okay?! I hate seeing other Pokémon in trouble, and this is no different-!”

“Scrald, will you shut up for a moment and think for a second?”

Planker frowned at his friend, not gnashing his jaw to scare him but covered his scarf over his face in a form of worry. The green fabric providing some form of comfort much like his straw-bed that he would sleep in nearby to Scrald’s own house, he fidgeted his claws before opening his mouth after taking a deep breath.

“Look, I… I’m sorry. But I’m just as worried about what Xatu might say about you just as much as you may be worried about what it means to be human. You’re worried that…”

“I’m causing the natural disasters?”

“Uh yes, that. You… said that more openly than I expected you to.”

Scrald shivered but slowly nodded. “I-I know. I get that you’re able to also predict what I say so easily as it feels like I’m much more of an open book than I thought. But… but yeah, I’m scared. To know what it means to carry an unknown burden that the reason the natural disasters are occurring and my appearance is…”

The water type widened his eyes and shook his head vehemently, immediately gripping one of the side-feathers of the Torchic before wrapping one arm around his torso.

“No. No no no don’t even go there Scrald. Before we even see Xatu, and even if you feel there may be a bad thing he might say to you… you’re not the reason these disasters are happening. I just… I can’t in my mind, I just can’t… picture you of all of the Pokémon I met be the one who’s responsible for all of this. It’s just not possible.”

“But how would you even know that? One day I suddenly wake up in the middle of a forest, I formed the Blazing Water rescue team with you, and now I… now I need to do why I’m even here. And if that means I have to find out the hard way, I… I guess I should’ve known that maybe my role here was much bigger than I expected.”

Forming a mixture of contemplation and seriousness, Planker looked at Scrald straight into his black-toned eyes.

“My gut feeling tells me you’re innocent in all of this. Not anybody else, or some all-seeing prophecy… just my faith in you.”

“A gut… feeling? That’s not… that’s not anything, is it? How would you know that I’d be a person who wasn’t responsible for the earthquakes, the forest fires, the many, many other things we keep seeing from the Pelliper news-“

“Scrald, please. Just… just stop thinking about what everyone else thinks of you and focus on me. Me - your… your friend. I trust you. And forget about Gengar, forget about Team A.C.T., forget about the disasters and your own pre-conceived concerns, and put faith in yourself as a person. I… I wouldn’t have gotten this far if it wasn’t for you. And even if we’re not perfect, that’s okay. Because… if we’re here together, then we can find out why it’s all happening. Xatu’s a psychic type right?”

Scald slowly began to nod in an attempt to agree, but whether he knew for certain was something he couldn’t foresee. How could he know for certain he wasn’t responsible and still needed to place his faith in someone he hadn’t even met before?

Perhaps the psychic type with the ability to see what he couldn’t could give him the reassurance he thought he desperately needed?

“Then he’d know more about it than anyone. Look, I… I can get why you have a bad feeling about this Scrald. And I know you’re in a hurry and are scared… but I believe in you. So please, even if it’s just for the remainder of this dungeon… believe in me as much as I do for you. Even if it’s just one step at a time. I can take the small steps, just not up this darn canyon…”

The Torchic human would sigh but give the ever-so-slightest hints of a smile across his beak.

Maybe if he continued, he would get his answers. Maybe if he believed in himself, he would be able to prove his own doubts wrong. For whatever reason it was, whether it was deep inside of him or not, one thing was for certain in his brain. He would have to keep going, no matter what.

“O-okay. I’ll do it. A-and I’ll try, with you.”

A smile from his partner after he pulled his scarf down was all he needed to move forward together to get the answers he seemed. He would make sure that the both of them would know exactly what was the cause of everything that could be occurring.

And he would do it with his friend… together.

Hidden Land

It had been several hours passing over the Sea of Time that Harmony had finally managed to close his eyes to sense the aura around him, feeling scared about the imminent collapse of time if they didn’t hurry to climb Temporal Tower and save the world for permanent, pending paralysis.

It was the future he came from that he went back in time for so he could fix the mistakes his former self had made, and with it, his own amnesia meant he could only try and thaw in the blanks of what it meant to still live in the past he was in right now.

“…Harmony? Hey. Are you okay?”

A shake and tussle from a concerned female Eevee shook him from his partial concentration, her eyes filled with concern as she sat down next to the Riolu to share some insight as to his sudden actions.

“I-I’m fine. Just… just thinking about stuff.”

“Like what? Did you want to talk about it?”

“Flurr, I… I can’t. Not whilst the world’s own future is at stake. We need to keep moving, or otherwise we’ll run out of time.”

He grimaced and flexed his right forepaw, fidgeting at his side before slowly slumping below. Harmony couldn’t bring himself to talk to her about all of the troubled emotions he had hidden underneath his mind.

Dusknoir’s betrayal and the kidnapping of the both of them so they could fight through the future just so they could return to the past and hope to even have a chance of collecting the Time Gears.

Realising that not only did he have the partner by his side, he also was none other than the same human Grovyle trusted with his life before his amnesia overcame him. Not even being aware of both of their true identities, they both fought when encountering him at one of the three Time Gears’ lakes, before the pain of realisation meant they could all be manipulated by pure coincidence.

Right now, Grovyle too was in front of them scouting the area to ensure they knew where they were headed before moving forward.

Standing in an old set of ruins beset by murals of ancient depictions of legendary Pokémon battles and the events of a previous falling asteroid, the Riolu did not want any part of becoming legend. He was scared and terrified. Not just of losing his own life if he failed, but by harming the two partner Pokémon he relied on so much that he couldn’t bring himself to tell them.

In his mind at least, that’s what he thought. That there was no way that they could ever understand the feelings he encompassed after forgetting his previous life for the one he lived now, and the consequences he had to deal with in tow just to get a basic understanding of everything.

As he sat, he shivered. Inside his mind, or at least the very depths of it, there was a tinge of regret that something may happen. What might happen to him when he prevented the future of darkness from ever occurring? Would it mean… would it mean that he himself would become a time paradox? That he would never exist?

Harmony couldn’t bring himself to finish that thought, before he felt a comforting hug come from his Eevee partner. She could only look on in an attempt to get through to his mind.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking Harmony, but this isn’t just a burden you have to think is just only on your shoulders. It’s on our shoulders together, is it not?”

The Riolu human stared back incredulously, unsure of what she was trying to say.

“How is it not Flurr? I’m… I’m trying my best to deal with the consequences of every second we lose. Your relic fragment may have guided us here but it’s not guiding my lost heart right now. I can’t… I can’t deal with losing you too. I just can’t. You mean too much to me.”

“That’s… thank you, but I… I know you’re not the only one who’s thinking about this all deep inside.”

Flurr flickered a small smile at him, which made his already overwhelmed brain suddenly contemplate a whole slither of conundrums. What was she even talking about? Did he do something to upset her? Did he go and screw up again, like everything he touched triggered his Dimensional Screams? Did he waste the time of other Pokémon again? Did he-

“I’m thinking about it too, even now.”

…

“Y-you are? But why?”

“Because I know that underneath it all, I’m scared, I-I’m afraid, but… I know if I don’t move forward, we won’t be able to save anyone. Me and Grovyle… we’re just as nervous about what might happen if we move forward as much as anyone else is. Including you. So please, even if it is the hardest thing in the world for you… please, just try. For me. For us. We’re Team Harmonia after all, and it was named after you. So… even if I get my strength from you too, I just… please?”

“That’s… that’s impossible.”

The female Eevee pulled her partner into a sudden hug.

“It may feel that way… but if you have someone to confide your worries in, doesn’t that mean you can at least try? We’ll save this world Harmony, I’m sure of it.”

Harmony looked at her, before eventually realising he couldn’t keep it in anymore. A few sniffles came, before a tear fell, then another and then another. He couldn’t keep it up.

He had to cry.

And as the Eevee cuddled him… she knew that with him, her strength and at least her worries can help make him feel better. Even if it was just in this moment. As the both of them didn’t know what to expect, they knew they needed to try. Just try.

They would go and place the Time Gears so they could save the world together.

If the both of them could just try… they could do it together.

Glacier Palace

The air was becoming hard to breathe for everyone around him. Soon without realising, his allies would begin collapsing from exhaustion one after another.

First came the collapse of his friend Dunsparce, followed by Virizion, then Umbreon and Espeon. They all fell from the protruding force of an unknown assailant, making the air thin as ice… much like the place they had become trapped from traversing via the Entercards.

Eventually, before he even realised, a lone Tepig stood still near the fallen and near unconscious body of his partner, an Axew whom he had grown to care about since he first woke up in this world from falling down from the sky.

“Huck! Huck, buddy, wake up-!”

“Ungh… Cormos… I…”

“Please, I can’t be the only one left up here, stay with me, even if it’s just…!”

The Axew’s tenacity was waning away, fading into background obscurity as he felt his consciousness slowly slipping into the depths of unawakened darkness. Cormos refused to have this happen. He… he couldn’t let this happen. Why? Why were his friends - and his precious best friend - all starting to find it difficult to even breathe?

With a sudden deep breath and a flurry of panic wash over him, sweat began to cover the fire type-human’s face. He was the only one left still standing.

How? How was this even happening? Why was it even happening for him?

He didn’t know. He just didn’t know.

“…Cormos…” Huck coughed, feeling his strength all but surely break away.

“Huck, I’m scared, what do I-? What do I do?”

“Just… stay by my side. Your presence… it’s… it’s the thing that… cough… provides me with the ability to even talk to you… gah… right now.”

“That’s…”

“I’m still here Cormos… even if I’m…”

Silence fell by the end of his partner’s date statement, and in a frantic effort to try and wake him up, the Tepig rushed to his side, shaking him like a ragdoll in a desperate attempt to wake him.

“Huck! Huck! C’mon, don’t… don’t leave me now.”

“WHO DARES TRESPASS ON MY DOMAIN?!”

A sudden, ice-pierced cry echoed throughout the chamber as a looming silhouette appeared over the human. There staring back at him was an expression lost with no soul, empty and desolate. With two ice-fractured wings flung from the back of its body, whatever this creature was instantly made the flame in Cormos’ body flicker further in a reflex arc.

“I-I… I come in peace. P-please… my buddy… please what’s happening to him?”

“You. You who can somehow survive the thick air up here. Just who are you?”

“…Cormos. Now tell me, how do I save my friend?!”

“Silence!”

The ice dragon roared and shook the confines of the Glacier Palace with the ferocity of what felt like an avalanche.

“I asked a question, I would like an answer. How could you possibly still breathe when…?”

Upon closer inspection, the towering giant loomed over the fire type with piqued interest. Moving down, they stared back at Cormos before making a slow growl.

“Your smell… it’s foreign. One that I feel accustomed to from the many times I’ve seen your kind. But you… I see you only pay heed to your allies and the Pokémon beside you. Why are you here… Cormos?”

“I… I came here because our team wanted to perform an investigation of the Glacier Palace. We didn’t mean to i-intrude or steal anything from you Mr…”

“Your kind can call me Kyurem. I’m content with your so-called investigation, but any moves further past this point is forbidden. Should you even dare try to defy me… a swift death would be nothing more short than certain.”

“I-I have no intention of doing that Kyurem.” The Tepig fearfully curled up into a ball, scared of what the towering ice dragon would inflict upon him if he tested his patience.

Luckily for him though, whatever the beast was approached Huck slowly before roaring and clearing some of the air temporarily so that he could breathe.

Before he realised it, the Axew slowly began to wake up again and turned to see the intensively worried face of his Tepig partner.

“Cormos… thank you.”

“I suggest to the both of you that whatever business you have further in this place is wrapped up now. I do not want to warn you a second time.”

“W-we will. We’re extremely sorry to trespass.”

“But I will say this. This Axew can keep the Frism he wanted to obtain. It is a special… object that can help with transferring messages if provided with the warmth of key. This will be your way of remembering your time here.”

Huck’s face immediately lit up with a gleaming smile, before finding his arms straight around the neck of the Tepig.

“Cormos… you were incredibly brave… thank you, thank you, thank you…”

The only thing on the former human’s mind though was the fact that his partner was safe. They would be okay. Team Whirlsprint would be alright.

And him and the rest of his friends… could go home together.

Revelation Mountain

Through the continuous rocky path to the peak of the mountain, a lone and angst-filled water type darted his eyes around in several different directions. Somewhere deep inside of him, he couldn’t help but feel worried.

The true culprit responsible for turning the world’s Pokémon to stone… he would slowly but surely meet them face-to-face.

With this knowledge, he knew he’d have to fight whatever it was that was standing in his way. Whether he knew for certain or not how it would turn out was anyone’s guess, at least to him.

All he know though was he wanted to find comfort in himself. No matter how far he’d go just to know what he could do at the core of the dilemma.

“We’ve got to not be far from the peak now you two. Stay sharp.”

Archen - one of the water type Pokémon’s allies from the Expedition Society - looked back at the both of the main team members of the Kipsaurs with a face filled with protection and confidence.

Sprout - a hyperactive Bulbasaur - nodded in tow. Cormac - the Mudkip with a lot to contemplate even if his former foster parent was also with them - was snapped back out of his thoughts. His terrified, over-encompassed worries and concerns.

As both Archen and Nuzleaf - the grass-type who took the human in where he had no where else to go - both wandered ahead not too far from where they would ascend to take down Krookodile, eventually the Bulbasaur looked and widened his eyes at the weakness of his friend. Walking alongside Cormac, he turned to look at him straight in the eyes.

“Hey, is… is everything alright? You look like the Mareep got stacked all over you.”

“Ah… I… it’s nothing Sprout, you don’t need to concern yourself over me. We have to stop Krookodile from hurting whatever is at the top of this mountain. I’m sure your Pops would say the same thing.”

“My Pops huh…? Well… I-I know most of all he’d be especially worried about me. Considering we haven’t seen each other in so long, he’d come back and scoop me up and give me the longest hug ever. But… but that’s not who I’m worried about right now. It’s you. You look so shuttered Cormac. W-why?”

With a heavy sigh, the former but amnesiac human stopped and began to shiver. His fin stood on end and his thoughts throttling any form of concentration, he shook himself into a shrunken corner.

Something… something felt horribly, horribly wrong in his mind. Why? Why could he not bring himself to move? How could he not have any strength left in him to continue moving forward? How was it that it was always him…? Right here, right now, why was he so worthless-?

“Cormac! Cormac! Cormac! Listen to me Cormac, I’m here! Please, please come back!”

A voice blotted out the echoed darkness that ploughed from the recesses of his mind to the forefront of reality, and through fuzzied eyes he stared at the concerned partner that shone into his line of sight.

Sprout looking no more worried than any other time he had seen him with his own self-doubts, he stared at Cormac with a look of lingering confusion and fear he would lose his friend to whatever he may have been going through.

“Cormac… come back to me.”

…

A breath of air from his lungs… and out again. Breathing in… and breathing out. Rinse and repeat until… until he would feel better.

“S-Sprout… I’m sorry.”

“I’m here Cormac, please… just tell me what’s worrying you.”

Silence filled the air as the Mudkip managed to regain his footing, before he slumped onto one of Sprout’s back vines for support as he used them to help him feel comfortable.

“I’m… just worried. About… about confronting the person who could be causing all these problems we’re having at the Expedition Society. I’m worried we could be turned to stone… or something might happen to you or Archen or my… own Pappy, but I… I’m worried most of all of seeing you get hurt. I can’t… no I won’t let that happen. I just can’t.”

With a flickered tear rolling down his cheek and dampening the cloth of the harmony scarf he wore, Sprout raised a leg to wipe it away and slowly but surely gave him a hug.

Maybe it wouldn’t last forever… but in this moment Cormac felt he needed it the most, especially when feeling at his most vulnerable right now.

“I-I know how it feels. Cormac, I’m scared of a lot of things. Losing my Pops, losing my place in the society, but now… hearing you say that, and how much you care about me… it makes me scared of losing you too. More than anything than you may know. But… but we have each other. I’m not going to let anything happen to you Cormac, no matter what.”

Sprout looked at his best friend with all the care he had for him up until this point in their journey, clinging onto him so he could feel at ease. He wouldn’t let go… not until he knew for certain that the Mudkip human would know how to ease his panic away from his mind.

Breathing slowly but surely, Cormac nodded and reciprocated the hug. He hugged him tightly, and began to sniffle more.

“I-I can’t… no I won’t… I refuse to let Krookodile, or whoever else I fear may touch you lay their hands on you Sprout… I never, ever want to have you harmed.”

“…I’m glad, so so glad to hear that Cormac. C’mon, let’s go… Archen and Mr Nuzleaf are up ahead.”

“…Right.”

With two cautious steps, the both of them walked forward to catch up to the other two in their searching party. Archen noticed Cormac’s worried eyes and gave him a reassuring nod.

And his surrogate father he left behind… whether it was his face or not, the human couldn’t tell.

But he swear… he saw the pained tear and worry his own face move forward.

“C’mon young’uns… yer gonna be fine. And Cormac… I’ll make sure you’ll be raising yer spirits like-a freshly brewed Oran Berry soufflé.”

The grass-type guardian gave his child a hug as well as a form of consolation for him, as the four of them had managed to get through to a clearing at the top.

The Expedition Society’s members all were there to support him, he realised. Even his own guardian.

But whatever this feeling that was inside him that he couldn’t shake away for something being wrong… he knew one thing he could do.

He would confront it with his allies together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading all four prompts I had to write. Whilst I know my other submissions are waaaayyy overdue (I’m sorry DX), thank you for a great hero/partner week! I’ve loved seeing all of you guys’ submissions and it proves that not only are all of you talented, but you’re all amazing in your own right as we all move forward to the future. We can all be here… as we each move forward… together.

@heropartnerweek

[gayelectro]

Thirst: A Ten Year Retrospective

On June 7th, 2013, at 7:30 PM, The Hub Network aired Transformers Prime’s 60th episode. Title: Thirst. Just five episodes before the conclusion of the series (and a post-series “movie”), the last few episodes of any serialized show can have a lot weighing on them, as you need to wrap up story threads in a satisfying fashion. 

For me though, Thirst missed the mark. Pretty hard.

When this episode aired, I hated it. And when posting my grievances on Tumblr, I was met with a lot of backlash. This naturally compounded the hatred I ended up brewing for this episode, as I felt as though couldn’t even talk about it with people without hearing some seriously stupid counterpoints or outright attacks to my character over not liking an episode of a children’s cartoon to sell toys.

Well, a lot of time has passed since then. It’s been a decade and I want to lay this whole thing to rest. I was 16 and still in high school when it aired, and now I’m a whole ass married 26 year old adult with a job. So I feel that getting all of my thoughts and feelings out, while also reflecting on how the Transformers fandom (and myself) have changed, might finally quell this beast for good. Aiming for the spark, as it were.

Skip the readmore if you don’t want to encounter a genuinely and insanely long post full of rambling and Transformers media consumption.

Naturally, disclaimers, because this is the internet.

Don’t go and read this and give any guff to anyone who worked on this episode or in Transformers Prime in general. I shouldn’t have to say this. Even as I speculate over what writer’s intentions or unconscious biases were back in 2013, it still gives nobody any reason to find these people and bother them. I’m allowed to criticize a show but I see no need for anybody to send shit to people who were likely just trying to get their paycheck from Hasbro.

Another disclaimer: I don’t have any problem with people who like or love this episode. I have friends who do. And I can see what positive points about it shine out for them. But I’m still allowed to have differing feelings about it and express them. At the crux of it, I think it’s just that simple. Everybody should be able to coexist within a fandom and deal with someone not liking your favorite episode or someone loving an episode you hate.

And I think one last disclaimer: the fact is that a lot of my anger towards this episode is partially baked in due to immediate fandom reactions at the time of release and my own disappointment in the episode not being what I hoped it to be. I’m going to dissect that where possible in this post. But fundamentally, I just don’t understand people who are like “you can’t hold it against a piece of media for not being what you wanted it to be” in regards to being misled. There’s a vast difference between letting fan theories get in the way of the author’s intent and being misled due to the way something is advertised. And while yes, the show isn’t to blame for how the fandom reacted to the episode, it still leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. How could it not? Human brains are wired for pattern recognition. How am I supposed to forget the way I was treated for not liking this episode? How am I supposed to be objective about this short of amnesia to experience the episode for the first time all over again?

Anyways, now that that’s out of the way, let’s dive in!

Now let it be known that I was thrilled for this episode. I was an avid Transformers Prime watcher. I made a whole event around every new episode airing. And I watched the promos like a hawk. I was obsessed with Transformers Prime when it was airing and convinced that it was a masterpiece. Truly, the apex of Transformers media.

So, the promotions really emphasized the zombie aspect of this episode, with a sneak peak at what they would look like. I don’t consider myself a horror fan by any means, I’ve always been squeamish and jumpy, but I think there’s an aspect of horror that lends itself to the curious mind. I wanted this episode to be scary. Knowing the Y-7 rating, I knew that this was going to be horror that likely fell within my comfort zone while also possibly pushing the envelope a bit. After all, Samurai Jack creator Genndy Tartakovsky had spoken at length about how much violence he could get under the radar in kid’s TV by having all of the “gore” be robots and aliens. I assumed that this episode was going to do much of the same.

Let me get it out of the way right now, one good thing about Thirst is the “zombicon” designs. I think they’re great. Personally would not change a thing about them, they’re pretty darn perfect.

But, being a weenie, I did try my hardest to steel myself against what the episode might throw at me. I was expecting the absolute worst they could get away with in regards to robot gore and violence and jumpscares. I wanted this episode to be scary. Sure, Y-7 scary, but still scary. I probably expected too much, given that I didn’t understand why shows stuck so hard to just 22 minute time slots at the time. But I was an easily startled kid, I figured they could still deliver... And, well... I just didn’t get that at all.

More or less, the episode rips itself into pieces. If one is being generous, about 1/3rd of the episode is veering on horror. But 2/3rds of the runtime are easily just comedic slapstick and banter between Knock Out and Starscream. While this is fine, it certainly wasn’t to my taste and was a let down. This episode obviously really really wanted to be funny and Decepticon focused. And while it was the only episode of Prime to not have a single Autobot in it, I still found its humor to be. Well.

Now, a tangent:

The writers and this series relationship with its queer-coded characters is complex and strange, to say the least. While I do love and appreciate a gay villain, it’s still very telling that the most flamboyant and clearly gay acting characters are Decepticons. Starscream in his literal stiletto heels and effeminate shrieks, Knock Out with his foppish behavior and just about everything said behind the scenes about him... It’s undeniable that they’re intended to be read as gay and it feels as though it varies from episode to episode whether them being gay is supposed to be humorous, relatable, or dastardly.

Thirst definitely feels like... The worst of this to me.

I’m going to focus more on Knock Out, just because he’s realistically more near and dear to my heart. But the fact is, I saw myself in these characters growing up. I was a young queer with no representation in the media I enjoyed. So of course I would cling to the gay, sexy robot. Regardless of if writers wanted him to be someone the audience saw themselves in, I did.

Of course, I believe at this point that everyone is familiar with “The Botcon Incident”.

[ALT TEXT : When asked at BotCon 2011, the Prime writers said that there is no designation for gay, or straight, for that matter, on Cybertron, where Transformers are created by the AllSpark, not through sexual reproductions. They also said that Knock Out is a knock out, and that the Nemesis is a very "don't ask, don't tell" place. And then they jokingly deflected the matter, claiming that Knock Out's mannerisms are not caused by any particular orientation, but are simply eccentricities caused by "a glitch in the AllSpark" the day he was created... which is unintentionally so insulting to gay people that it could create an awkward silence in the Void. ]

On one hand, Knock Out acting gay is seen as a defect. A mistake or some sort of source of humor. At the same time, there was still a lot of love given to him by the writers. In panels, they’ve expressed that they refused to let Knock Out be killed off (regardless of if any other character lived or died). Part of this was because he was really the big “original” character for the show, but part of it also definitely has to be some sort of genuine love for the character, I think.

So, it’s a weird act to juggle as a queer fan, right? The writers loved Knock Out but it feels like they still wanted to poke and jeer about how gay he was (without even really confirming him to be gay, but we can all admit he acts gay and that’s WEIRD, am I right guys).

To wrap around to Thirst: I feel like this is part of why I don’t find as much humor in the slapstick Knock Out/Starscream moments in the episode as other fans do. This feels like the most brazen and obvious part of it: the humor in the episode feels like it comes from a place of “how funny would it be to make the fags run around the ship screaming their heads off”.

By season three, the animation in this show became so beautiful and utterly expressive. And that’s a great thing. But the level to which they pushed Knock Out and Starscream’s run cycles was just... Like I get it, it’s funny when scared gay person does a silly effeminate run. Not to mention how these characters have established run cycles, we’ve seen them run before, no, in this episode they flail about helplessly because it’s sooooooo funny.

I do feel like there were undercurrents of homophobia in this show. It released in 2013 and thus was probably written back in 2012. To act like the writers room was completely devoid of the influences of homophobia would be absurd. I’m not saying that the episode is explicitly homophobic, nor that it’s homophobic to put gay characters in horror scenarios, nor that everyone who worked on Transformers Prime is a homophobe. But I am saying that this show was a product of its time, and 2012 was a very homophobic time, and that I think we can talk about that without assuming the worst in those bringing it up or the worst in everybody who worked on the media in question. Multiple things can be true at once. I just want to talk about how the vibes are off, man, it feels a little gay bash-y.

Part of what I’m trying to describe here is, to put it another way, would this episode have worked the way it did with any other characters being at the forefront? Thirst, but with say, Shockwave and Soundwave? Airachnid and Megatron? Or Arcee and Bulkhead? Or Ratchet and Wheeljack? However you switch this episode around, I’m almost positive the characters’ mere presence would not be treated as inherently comedic into itself. It feels very telling that this was a Knock Out and Starscream episode, because Knock Out and Starscream are the most obviously queer-coded characters.

Getting off of that tangent which I’m sure has already turned the few readers of this away, let me get back more into the meat of this retrospective.

Another thing that infuriated me about fan reception to this episode is that a lot of fans reduced everything to shipping wars. If there’s something that’s really changed with time in the Transformers fandom, thank fuck it’s the shipping culture. A decade ago, any and all issues I had with this episode got reduced to “You’re a KO/BD shipper and you’re angry because this episode had KO/SS moments”. To this day, I cannot express how such a dismissive and us vs. them attitude makes me see fucking red! If anything, the fan’s combative nature is what made me come to dislike KO/SS as a ship-- not the other way around.

The fact is, the banter between Knock Out and Starscream is entertaining. I do like that aspect of the episode. When they open up to one another in the bunker, it’s a really sweet moment! We have two Decepticons being vulnerable and open with each other, which is a rarity, given how cold living on the Nemesis is! It was a genuinely touching moment that gave us insight into both Knock Out and Starscream as individuals, which I really did enjoy.

The way they speak to each other throughout the episode is actually one of the things that makes me wish I could come back to this episode more (and hopefully now I can). It’s telling how they can open up to one another only to immediately throw each other under the bus the very next moment. It speaks to the Decepticon’s culture.

But anywho, there was also just the... Blatant ignoring of what actually was said in the episode to fit an agenda. Ardent “only-one-ship-may-rule” KO/SS fans insisted that Knock Out’s behavior in this episode ““proved”“ that he didn’t care about Breakdown. This thankfully has died off overtime in the fandom, now that more people can accept multiple ships coexisting in peace instead of making conflict where there doesn’t need to be any.

But even if we take shipping out of the equation entirely, you have to be either not listening or willingly deluding yourself if you think that any of Knock Out’s actions in this episode are showing that he did not care about Breakdown, regardless of if you think that relationship was lovers, friends, or just close coworkers.

“Despite your justifiable lack of regard for his human side, it doesn’t trouble you to watch what remains of your former partner endure your scientific endeavors?” “Not really. Besides, Silas once had poor Breakdown pinned to his lab table. I think my former partner would be pleased to be a part.”

This was the big exchange that really got under people’s skin. Watching it live, I loved this reaction from Knock Out. It spoke to what a sadist that he was and how he went about extracting revenge. He saw the perfect bookending of stories; Silas experimented on Breakdown, so it was only fit for Knock Out to experiment on Silas. Just as Silas had used Breakdown’s corpse as a suit to trounce around in, Knock Out would treat his body just as such. Just a shell, not any remnant of the soul that was once inside.

But certain people just heard the deadpan “not really” and just stopped listening. Like, I’m sorry, but these guys are alien robots. They probably already don’t have exactly the same feelings around corpse desecration as we do, and even if they did, Knock Out is kind of a freak anyways.

And once again, when I saw this episode, I was single. Now I’m married. I can see even more now how love can push you to weird, freakish, even ghoulish extremes. I personally could think of hardly anything more romantic than my wife torturing and experimenting on someone who wronged me. And I certainly wouldn’t be kind to someone for wearing her face in the event of her passing.

And the line “You’re no Breakdown” got wildly misinterpreted too. Somehow people thought that meant that Breakdown was “lesser” than Starscream, which... What? How? Like it’s obvious that Knock Out is contrasting his former relationship to Breakdown to the relationship he has to Starscream here. Starscream and Breakdown are vastly different people, that’s not to say anything about shipping. Once again, even if you only see Breakdown as Knock Out’s assistant, his relationship to Starscream is still vastly different to his relationship with Breakdown. Starscream is his superior officer whereas Breakdown is either on the same rung as him or a step lower. This is not a value judgement on either ship! It’s just basic chemistry and writing! One of them is a quiet brute while the other is a commanding fruit. I’m not understanding how this could lift up or put down either ship, so to see people do that (admittedly on both sides of this stupid fucking ship war) was just aggravating.

Once again, I can’t stress enough how by and large, the fandom’s attitude has shifted away from that bullshit. I see people gleefully talk about shipping all three of them together or just shipping their own favorite thing without needing to bring the other ship into it at all in an adversarial way. It’s great. Wish that could’ve been here all along. I could only imagine the kind of blood that would have been shed if someone had conducted the Transformers Husband Poll or Canon Ship Poll back in 2013, but now people can just have a good time with things the way we’re supposed to.

And then we get to the part where I actually take issue with the writing of the episode itself, regardless to fandom reaction.

Airachnid. 

Okay, so can we finally talk about this part? Because when I took issue with this when the episode aired, I got a lot of “wait and see, they still have time to do something with this”. Which. No they fucking didn’t. They opened up like five new plot points, for no reason, right at the end of the series, and then did not follow up on them at all.

I can’t wrap my head around this, even now. Why did they even take this character out of stasis? They fridged her before only to let her out for five minutes to fridge her again. This is so absurdly stupid, like I still cannot even find a silver lining to this part.

Airachnid having a hoard of zombie Insecticons on one of Cybertron’s moons did not even get a mention for the rest of the series.

What was the point of this? Legitimately, was there some sort of reason they needed to write out the Insecticons so badly? They hadn’t really been important in any regard for a long time. At that point in the show, they were barely a step above Vehicons when it came to being Decepticon cannon fodder. Was there any reason to make Airachnid extra dead with more steps? Because this doesn’t provide more closure than her already piss poor exit from the show with her being in stasis, frozen in a pod, as a trophy for Megatron.

Nothing, and I mean nothing, would have changed for the rest of Prime if Airachnid had stayed frozen in her pod and the Insecticons stayed aboard the Nemesis. I can’t think up a defense for this, I can’t conjure up an explanation, just... Why? I’m still left feeling like this was fucking strange. Maybe someone’s femdom hypnosis vampire queen fetish, I can’t fucking tell.

Now that the series is over, I’m hoping at least people can acknowledge that this was pointless, stupid, and just unnecessary. Or at least give me any reason why this isn’t the dumbest thing ever. Because this was the big thing in the actual canon of the episode that made me go “wow, that was an awful episode”.

And while I’m still left scratching my head over that, I do feel... Relieved. The more I think it over, the more I can see how the fandom has changed for the better in a lot of respects. And upon rewatching this episode, I can better see the parts that I actually like. Sure, some shit still bothers me, but I do feel better about it now.

And of course, watching Prime as it airs at 16 is a very different experience than trying to rewatch it... Basically any time once you hit your 20s. I still love Prime, but I’m older now and can see its flaws, especially since we’ve got the whole story to work with. I still recommend Prime as a starting point to people with certain tastes who wanna get into Transformers. But doing a full rewatch of the series for me is a chore now due to some of the glaring writing issues and pacing. It’s a good show, but not the pinnacle of Transformers media I used to think of it as. And that’s okay! Tempered expectations help a lot with disappointment.

With something like ten years, a lot has changed in the Transformers franchise. We now have a plethora of canon queer characters and relationships, all treated with respect. We have a nonbinary Autobot in a children’s cartoon, and I know that would have changed my world as a kid if I had grown up with that. And while it sucks that my favorite character in Transformers Prime, Breakdown, got killed off so unceremoniously, so many continuities after that have tried to make up for it by having him survive and thrive.

Another positive note is the way my feelings for this episode have impacted my real life.

Back when my wife was still just my girlfriend, I ranted and raved to her about how much I hated this episode. How stupid it was. How it was the worst episode of the whole show. Back then, she had no interest in any media pertaining to robots, let alone Transformers. But something about how passionate that got me made her curious. She checked out Thirst, and concluded that if that was the worst the Transformers Prime had to offer, then it might be a pretty good show overall. She ended up watching Prime, and with that gateway, I was able to get her to watch and enjoy more Transformers media. Which lead to more robot media as a whole. Now we have so many more fandoms and shows that we enjoy together, all because my hate boner for this episode piqued her interest! Sharing my love of robots with my wife has been a wonderful facet of our relationship and I simply don’t know how we would have gotten there without this entry way!

All of this to say... I think after ten years, maybe this isn’t the worst episode of the series. I can’t be bothered with a whole rewatch to find out, as the episodes that bore me aren’t ones that I’d bother to watch again just to rate. The shit with Airachnid was mind-achingly stupid and maybe some of the slapstick hasn’t aged the best, but otherwise it just is what it is. I liked Silas dying, I liked the character interactions we got between Starscream and Knock Out, I always adore Darren Norris’ performance as Knock Out and this episode does wonders to show off his skill (“Precisely my-- WHAT”), and the zombie designs were pretty baller.

I thank this episode for what it’s given to me, I’m going to let go of the ghosts of fandom’s past, and now I set it all free.

Here’s the whole episode on Youtube, TFwiki just links these if they’re available, apparently.